War
by richard the pedantic
Summary: This is the sequal to Tradition, summary is within. Chapter 17 is up, Rated for lots of death, sexual content and some other stuff (Beware of spoilers)
1. On approach

**The following is the sequel to 'Tradition'. Set five years after the 'Trial', Lieutenant Commander Valerie Andriano is part of a mixed Libertarian, Bretonian, Kusari and Rheinland attack on the Outcast's home-world; 'Malta'.  
  
And trust me; there'll be many more in game characters in this one.  
  
I do not own Freelancer. Microsoft or digital anvil or someone else does.  
  
War  
  
By Richamithrad the Pedantic  
  
Chapter one: On approach**  
  
Captain Von Claussen sat back in his command chair and surveyed his surroundings with a grin of satisfaction. It had been little under five years since the Bundschuh had managed to topple the previous corrupt government and assume power, and the evidence of change was all around. Much of the Rheinland fleet had been re-built. The economic turmoil that had plagued them for so long was soon to be a grim memory, and a sense of strength and trust was gradually returning to the people of Rheinland.  
  
"We shall arrive at the Cambridge system jump gate in roughly ten minutes Captain." Said Lieutenant Olga Zierling, cutting Von Claussen off in his train of thought.  
  
"Thank you Lieutenant, he replied.  
  
The RNS _Shiller_, (Von Claussen's flagship), as well as the task force under his command, was a testament to the Rheinland's reconstruction. The disastrous war with the GMG; and the even more disastrous war with the Nomads had all but crippled Rheinland. It had not been easy to accumulate the money to re-build. The 'Hudson' system was surrendered to Liberty and almost a dozen new trade routes had to be opened. For the most part however, it appeared that the metaphorical storm had been weathered.  
  
"Captain", said Lieutenant Laurence Dauman, the _Schiller's_ tactical officer, "I'm getting a new group of signals; it looks like four Bretonian 'Crusader' class heavy fighters sir, they're moving towards us."  
  
"Probably our welcoming committee, hail the lead fighter."  
  
"Aye sir."  
  
In the corner of the view screen. The image of a Bretonian armed forces pilot appeared. The image looked distorted, as per usual, but the message was clear enough.  
  
"Rheinland task force, this is Lieutenant Fredrick Shelton, I've been ordered to escort you to the rest of the fleet."  
  
"Thank you Lieutenant," began Von Claussen, "after you."  
  
"Of course captain, Shelton out."  
  
The image disappeared and the small Rheinland fleet began to follow the Bretonian fighters.

* * *

"Look out delta three, pull up!"  
  
The Libertarian pilot was too slow acknowledging Valerie Andriano's message and consequently took several hits to their rear shields before finally pulling up and managing to shake the Xeno pursuing her.  
  
"Idiot" muttered Valerie to herself as she swooped downwards in her own fighter and lined an enemy vessel up in her sights. The Xeno made a feeble attempt at evasive manoeuvres, which Valerie matched effortlessly, when the red crosshair appeared on her HUD, thus confirming that she was in firing range, she fired at the enemy ship that was incinerated soon after.  
  
Delta two, which was piloted by Ensign Leonard Alvarez, was fortunate enough to find himself behind the second Xeno fighter, the fire from his ship smashed through the enemy's shields are tore his left wing from the rest of the ship. The Xeno was then destroyed by a 'Seeker' missile as it attempted to flee.  
  
"Alright people," said Valerie with a hint of pride in her voice, "that's all of them. Return to formation."  
  
As the other ships flew towards her position, Valerie decided that some constructive criticism was in order, partly to help improve the young pilot's abilities, partly to ensure that they didn't let success go to their heads.  
  
"Mr. Alvarez, you probably could have destroyed that Xeno without wasting a missile."  
  
"I know ma'am", came the response, "I can't resist it though, seeing the pirates run whilst one of my missiles quickly catches up to them and blasts them to pieces, beautiful stuff."  
  
Against her will, Valerie smiled at this statement. Fortunately however, this was concealed by her flight helmet.  
  
"It's your choice Ensign, but those missiles come out of your salary, so I would advise against sacrificing business for beauty too often."  
  
"I'll keep that in mind ma'am."  
  
"Right," said Valerie with renewed zeal in her voice, "we've wasted enough time here. Let's head back to the _Missouri_."  
  
All three of the ships began to head back to Norfolk shipyards, where the _Missouri_ was still currently stationed. Within the hour they would be setting course for the Cambridge system, and from there, they would have to travel deep into the unknown dangers of Sirius to the planet known as 'Malta'. Home to the Outcasts and their Cardamine. The next few days would either see the final destruction of this threat, or the destruction of the houses' invasion fleet.  
  
Valerie, although she revealed nothing in her facial expressions and tone of voice, was frightened at the idea of taking on the Outcasts in their home system. The Outcasts were no pushovers, the cardamine, along with keeping them alive, had the annoying side effect of enhancing their reflexes and combat abilities. This was not going to be easy.

* * *

On the bridge of the KNS _Nozawa_, all was relatively quiet. Kusari had only been willing to donate a single ship to the attack on the Outcasts. Partly because the Outcasts rarely bothered them, but mainly because of the ever increasing cautiousness and paranoia of Kusari's leader, Shogun Murakami.  
  
Kusari had taken a pasting during the short, Nomad inspired, war with Rheinland. All but two of their warships had been destroyed, and most of their fighters had fallen to Rheinland or Nomad guns.  
  
Every cloud has a silver lining however. With the weakened state of the military, the Blood Dragons and their political allies had managed to seize power from the corrupt Edo shogunate. The equally corrupt 'Samura Heavy Industries' was destroyed shortly thereafter.  
  
After the grim necessities of revolutions. Kusari had begun to re-build its military. In five short years, they had almost doubled the size of their pre Nomad war strength. This new fleet however was dedicated to vehemently guarding Kusari's systems. After the last crippling defeat it suffered, Kusari was unwilling to allow anything even remotely similar to happen again.  
  
If the price of this was a strong military presence in the home systems, so be it. This was the current and unwavering attitude of Kusari's leaders at present. The reality was that it could have spared ten battleships without making much of an impact on the 'Home-fleet'.  
  
"Entering the Cambridge system now sir," reported Lieutenant Reileen Li, "I'm reading a number of Bretonian fighters on the radar, they're hailing us."  
  
"Our escorts no doubt." Replied Captain Takeshi Deme, "Let's hear what they have to say."  
  
After a brief chat with the Bretonian escort fighters, the Nozawa began its flight towards the rest of the fleet.

* * *

LSF Commander Jun'ko Zane, (or Juni as she was known to friends,) sat impatiently in the briefing room chair. To her left, the even more impatient Captain Jason Daniels was reclining in his own chair.  
  
The Rhienland captains were, for a reason that was known only to themselves, ten minutes late. Bored and irritated faces could be seen all about the room. The worst and most obvious one however belonged to Trent.  
  
"What the hell's taking them so long?" He said quietly to Juni.  
  
"You keep asking that, I don't know." Came the quiet, yet sharp response from Juni.  
  
Trent fell silent; he had learned from personal experience that irritating Juni usually resulted in physical injury or some pestiferous, self righteous speech.  
  
Instead, he cast his eyes over the assorted military officers from all but one of the houses. It was strange being seated at the same table as them. He was a freelancer, he was meant to be off in some backwater system shooting at Corsairs, not sitting around a table with people who were going to plan a full scale invasion.  
  
He didn't regret what he did. The Outcasts were a threat that, in his and the majority of Sirius' opinion, had to be neutralised. It was a stroke of pure luck that he had been able to stumble across their home world. It had been a stroke of even greater luck that he had been able to get out of the system alive.  
  
It was afterwards that the problems had really started for him; as soon as he was back in Liberty he flew straight to the _Missouri_ and gave them the location of the Outcast's planet. Instead of giving him a metaphorical pat on the back however, they seduced him with an unreasonably high sum of money which he would receive upon the defeat of the Outcasts. Assuming of course they were defeated, or he survived. Neither of which he was overly confident about.  
  
A faint hissing sound from the far end of the room caught everyone's attention. Three Rheinland captains stepped through.  
  
'Finally.' Though Trent to himself, on closer examination however, he noticed something that nearly sent him to his feet in shock.  
  
He saw the shocked look in Juni's eyes, which showed that she had noticed it too.  
  
"Heir Von Claussen." Juni said quietly and disbelievingly.  
  
Heir Von Claussen had been a top pilot for the Order during the days of the Nomad war. During the final battle when the hyper gate was opened however, he disappeared without a trace. Everyone in the Order believed that he had been killed, and until a few seconds ago, so did Trent and Juni.  
  
Captain Von Claussen gave Trent and Juni a quick, equally surprised stare before turning his gaze to the empty seat before him and sitting down.  
  
"Now that we're all here," said Captain Daniels, "let us begin. As you two months ago, the freelancer Edison Trent stumbled upon the home world of the pirate faction and notorious narcotic smugglers known as the Outcasts." There was some general nodding from most of the people who were seated.  
  
"Since then, we have smuggled two LSF operatives onto Malta and gathered enough intelligence to carry out a full scale assault which we believe has a high probability of success."  
  
There was less nodding this time. Many of those present had gone up against the Outcasts before, and had the scars to show for it. All of them knew that the Outcasts were no pushovers, and logic suggested that they would defend their homeland with their entire fleet.  
  
"LSF Commander Jun'ko Zane will now go over the mission specifics." Daniels sat back down as Juni pushed herself out of her seat and walked over to the main display terminal.  
  
"Thank you Captain," she cleared her throat, "the Outcast's home system lies in the far off system of Omicron Alpha. It is uncharted by any of the houses, and so we have limited information about the system save the location of the planet itself, and the location of the Omicron Theta jump hole that leads to the system.  
  
We'll need to fight our way through Omega 5 and Omega 41, from there we..."  
  
"Excuse me Commander," the voice that cut Juni off belonged to the Bretonian Captain Isabella O'Brian, "but how exactly do you hope to get a fleet through Omega 5? That system is a war zone between the Corsair's and the Red Hessians, if persistent attacks from them don't finish us off, then the minefields will."  
  
"And even if we did get through," Captain Deme added, "the radiation in Omega 41 would gnaw away at our hulls and poison most if not all of our crew before we got out of the system. There has to be another way in."  
  
General murmurs of agreement met these statements.  
  
"Let her finish." Daniels half shouted. The surprised Captains fell silent.  
  
"Thank you Captain," Juni said with a voice that revealed signs of irritation, "We're fairly confident that the Corsairs and Hessians won't attack us as long as we have all our fighters deployed as we move through the system. Even if they attacked us with everything they have, their losses would be too great, and our fighters and turrets can remove the mines without too much of a problem. As for Omega 41, our technicians will re-enforce our hulls before we leave, and we'll be taking on an extra supply of Nano-bots and radiation immunity capsules before we leave. Assuming all goes well, we shouldn't have a problem."  
  
A silence lingered in the room for a few moments. They could cram as many safety precautions into the mission as possible and it still wouldn't re-assure many of the people in this room.  
  
"Once we arrive in Omicron Alpha, we shall engage the Outcasts, who will be attacking with Sabre and Stiletto class heavy fighters. They will also have a planetary defence system which our operatives on the surface shall disable. Once their fleet has been obliterated, we will commence the landing of ground troops, who will begin destroying Cardamine production plants, occupying the cities and arresting war criminals."  
  
Another silence filled the room as all this information sunk in. Fear was beginning to show on a number of faces, no one liked the idea of war, and the mission sounded too dangerous and foolhardy to be worth the benefits of its victory. Unfortunately for them however, their superiors disagreed.  
  
"Any questions?" Asked Daniels.  
  
**To be continued.**


	2. Time goes quickly when you're waiting to...

Thanks to Bob Rijke for reviewing, there really should have been something between Trent and Juni after the end of the game; it would have made more sense, and there was so much potential for something to happen in the final cinematic scene. Oh well, I won't say anything related to that and my fan fic because I don't want to give away any plot information. Also, I'm assuming that lord Hakera, being the only (known) politician to help the Blood Dragons, would have assumed the role of Emperor after the revolution, hence he wouldn't be with the fleet.  
  
Chapter 2: Time goes quickly when you're waiting to die  
  
The mixed Kusari, Liberty, Bretonian and Rhienland task force sailed slowly towards the ice field in the 'South Eastern' corner of the Cambridge system. The cloud had a shadowy reputation; ships that went in rarely came out, unless of course they were Corsairs, who used the cloud as a means of accessing and looting Bretonia.  
  
With the sizable fleet heading towards the cloud however, the Corsairs seemed more then happy to stay out of the way.  
  
This allowed nervous, off-duty officers to enjoy what was either their final hour, or at least their final hour without anyone shooting at them for a good long time, to converse with friends in the bars of their ships.   
  
"Here's to an end to us." Said Nathan Remington mournfully before he emptied the contents of his glass. He stared into the empty glass after lowering it from his face, and silently cursed the powers that be for banning alcohol on board Liberty Star ships. Pineapple juice didn't bring with it the same sense of relaxation that a good 'Sidewinder Fang' did.   
  
"Ever the optimist" said Valerie Andriano with a faint twitch of a smile.  
  
Faint smiles from both Nathan and Mathias met this statement. This was far from the happy reunion that Valerie had hoped for. Upon hearing that the LNS Basilisk, the ship that Nathan was serving on, she believed that the three friends meeting up again might help ease the feelings of fear and dread that the three, like everyone else, was feeling.   
  
Instead, Mathias could barely bring himself to say three words; Nathan seemed to be mentioning death in every other sentence, and she was feeling far from better herself.  
  
"So," Mathias said, "how's life treating you onboard the Basilisk?" Valerie turned her head to face Nathan who, like herself, seemed to be grateful for the change of subject.  
  
"Could be worse, you know what the routine is, get up, shower, get dressed, eat, torch a few Liberty Rogues, land, eat again, torch a few more Liberty Rogues, piss about in the bar and go to sleep. My only real trouble is that my Flight leader, Lieutenant Commander Cal Bauer brings new definitions to the words 'Slave driver'. His reputation for tyranny is second only to hers." He gestured at Valerie.  
  
"Hey." She said with mock anger, hitting him on the arm as she did so.  
  
A small amount of laughter filled the room.  
  
"That's better" Valerie said silently to herself.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
"I received word from a Bundschuh operative on New Berlin that the Rheinland southern fleet had been ambushed and obliterated by a Bretonian task force in Omega-7. This, coupled with the losses we, I mean the Nomads, suffered in the attacks on Kusari and Liberty, and," there was a slight pause, "the damage that we inflicted upon the enemy war machine, gave the Bundschuh, the Unioners and the LWB the perfect opportunity to move in and seize power. I had to leave, I couldn't sit back and wait as my friends and colleagues fought and died to restore Rheinland to its former glory."   
  
Juni and Trent nodded as they accepted this information. Upon leaving the briefing room, the first thing they did was confront Von Clausen about what had happened to him.   
  
"You could have said Goodbye at least." Trent said after a few seconds.  
  
"Or told us what was happening, we could have helped." Juni added, with traces of anger in her voice.  
  
Von Clausen's expression remained that of moderate guilt.  
  
"You'd already done more then enough," he said after a few moments, "I didn't want to drag you into a fight that wasn't yours."  
  
"O.K fine," anger seemed to be seeping into Trent's voice now, "but why didn't you contact us afterwards, let us know you were alive?"  
  
"After the war with the Nomads ended, Rheinland's policy regarding security became strict to the point of insanity," traces of a grin emerged on his face, "no messages are to be sent by military personnel to foreigners without a damn good reason, mine wasn't good enough."  
  
Another few moments of silence passed while Juni and Trent absorbed this information. Von Clausen's explanation was understandable, and he was consequently unworthy of blame, they knew this, but still couldn't help but feel a little betrayed.  
  
"So," said Trent after a while, breaking the silence, "what have you been doing since then?"  
  
"Mostly," Von Clausen replied with a forced casualness in his voice, "I've just been shooting at Red Hessians whilst Rheinland rebuilds itself."  
  
"Sounds like fun." Juni added, the anger was starting to seep away from her.  
  
"Well let me just say this, what they lack in flying ability they make up for with large numbers, which keeps me and my people busy."  
  
"Well let me just say this," Trent paused for a few seconds, "it's good to see you again."  
  
"That it is." Said Juni.  
  
"Likewise, it's been too long."  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Elsewhere, onboard the Bretonian battleship, the HMS Cornwall, Lieutenant Christopher Jenkins of the Royal Bretonian space force, and Lieutenant Jiang Klim of the Imperial Kusari Navy were sitting comfortably in the ship's bar, sipping disturbingly warm glasses of water, and discussing the finer points of their own empires.  
  
"…And that my friend is why Kusari's economy is a piffling fragment of a migraine in comparison to Bretonia's. We encourage trade with any and all whereas your early xenophobic attitude towards trade has lost your empire billions."  
  
"Be that as it may, we're hardly suffering because of it. Our new, improved fleet dwarfs yours. And, might I add, that we've been able to not only out perform you in terms of industrial capacity, but we've done so without reducing a world to a disgusting, smog filled swamp."  
  
Jenkins swallowed more of his water and stared at it with hateful eyes for a few seconds, though he was loathed to admit it, Leeds, (the planet Klim was obviously talking about), was a dump. The average life expectancy was depressingly low and those that lived there would sell their souls to leave.  
  
"Kusari's worlds might look all nice and shinny," Jenkins and Klim looked around themselves for a few seconds; their conversation had attracted the interest of every Bretonian and visiting Kusari officer that was present.  
  
"As I was saying," he continued, "I've heard tales of your own ecological misdeeds. Fishing the Red fin to extinction for example."  
  
It was Klim's turn to be quiet. The over fishing that lead to the extinction of the Red fin was a dark chapter of Kusari's ecological book.  
  
"I guess all our argument proves is that both our empires have problems." He said after a few seconds  
  
"All empires have problems mate, if they didn't they'd be freakish things where the people skip instead of walk and say good morning to everyone they see."  
  
Klim laughed quietly, quickly followed by Jenkins.  
  
"To the minor problems of Bretonia and Kusari that keep us all sane." Jenkins said after a few seconds, raising his half empty glass.  
  
"And the end of the Outcasts." Klim added, raising his own glass.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
On the bride of the LNS Missouri, Captain Jason Daniels struggled to get comfortable in his chair. The jump hole was in sight, and in a matter of minutes the fleet would go through it, either to a glorious victory or a fiery death. Needless to say it was the latter option that disturbed him.  
  
Despite his nervousness, and the pesky wish in the back of his head that he was someplace far away where nothing could shoot him, Daniels knew that he had to succeed. The Outcasts and their cardamine were slowly gnawing away at Sirius. Every day more people became addicted to cardamine and with every new junkie came another victory for the Outcasts, it had to be stopped.  
  
Even if they won, the consequences could be catastrophic. Almost a quarter of Sirius was addicted to cardamine, and almost a quarter would die if Cryer pharmaceuticals new miracle drug didn't cure them of their addiction.  
  
"Path me through to the rest of the fleet." Daniels' voice was much more calm then the rest of him.  
  
"Yes sir." Replied Lieutenant Michael Warner, (the communications officer.)  
  
A short 'beep' told Daniels that the other ships could hear him.  
  
"Alright people, this is it. I don't need to tell you what to expect on the other side of the jump hole. I don't need to tell you how important it is that we succeed, and I don't need to tell you how many people are counting on us. I won't pretend that victory is a certainty, and I won't pretend for one second that this is going to be easy. All I ask is that you do your best, and make sure that the Outcasts pay for every life they've ruined or ended."  
  
He cast a glance towards Warner, who promptly closed the channel to the other ships, but kept the one to the rest of the Missouri open.  
  
"All hands, battle stations. Lieutenant Trenis, take us in."   
  
To be continued.  
  
Something of a short one I know, the next one should be longer. 


	3. Welcoming Committee

I probably should have explained the fleet situation better in the earlier chapters. O.K, there is one Kusari ship, the Nozawa, one Rheinland battleship and three cruisers, the Schiller, the Frey, the Thor and the Durandel, two Liberty battleships, the Missouri and the Basilisk, and three Bretonian battleships, the Nelson, the Tornado and the Carina.  
  
Also, it just makes more sense for the Outcasts to be the target. They produce and distribute Cardamine, they have a home planet, and they piss off the houses.  
  
Anyway, thanks for reviewing.  
  
Chapter 3: Welcoming committee  
  
"All turrets, fire at will! Repeat, all turrets, fire at will!"  
  
The Nozawa was the first ship to open fire on the small fleet of Corsairs and Hessians that had apparently put aside their differences, for the moment at least, so as to drive out the intruders.  
  
The other capitol ships opened fire shortly afterwards. Most of their shots were spent trying to incinerate incoming torpedoes. The rest were mostly too slow to hit the enemy.  
  
"All fighters launch!" Screamed the captains of every ship over the com.  
  
On the assorted flight decks, floods of pilots charged through the entrance hatches to their fighters. Despite the rushed, seemingly chaotic environment, there were no collisions among pilots or technicians, no one fell over and soon enough the fleet's fighters were exiting their ships and joining the battle.  
  
Juni was the first pilot to launch from the Missouri. She immediately increased her speed to intercept the nearest Corsair Centurion. Ordinarily, a Liberty defender is, in comparison to a Centurion, what a bicycle is in comparison to a battleship. Juni had the good fortune however to be flying one of the tri-winged defender prototypes, and they were every bit as powerful as the top of the line Corsair fighter, the Titan.  
  
She opened fire, and promptly severed one of the Corsair's wings. The enemy ship began spinning uncontrollably, and was promptly taken down by another round of shots from Juni.  
  
The cold satisfaction that accompanied this kill was cut short however as two red Hessians appeared behind her. Juni swerved in various directions and deployed several mines in an attempt to evade her pursuers. The Hessians seemed to take it all in their stride however, and soon opened fire.  
  
The defender's shields soon fell to a level where they were almost non existent, Juni's mine laying and evasive manoeuvres were proving to be useless, and things were beginning to look grim.   
  
The solution to Juni's problem came in the form of Trent and his Eagle class heavy fighter however. His fire smashed through one of the Hessian's stilettos, and sent the other veering away. Trent quickly placed himself behind it, placed the target in his sights, and opened fire, thereby earning his second kill of the day.  
  
"Stay focused Juni," he said over the com, "I can't protect you all the time."  
  
"Yeah, yeah." She replied with a mixture of gratitude and irritation in her voice.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
"Eat shit!" Mathias screamed at his target as he sent two missiles and a series of gunshots into its engines. The multiple hits soon resulted in the legionnaire being torn to dust.  
  
"Nice shot sir." Said Ensign Finch over the com, with genuine admiration in his voice.  
  
"Keep your mind on the fucking enemy Ensign!" Mathias screamed in response, "or I'll kill you myself." Finch wisely kept quiet.  
  
Mathias was commanding a small wing of three defenders. The conventional, two winged design had been upgraded so as to make it more of a match for border world based opponents. Unfortunately, it was still weaker then the Sabre and the Titan class fighter. As was soon proved.  
  
A Hessian Sabre managed to appear, un-noticed, behind Mathias' fighter wing. It opened fire almost instantly, and Ensign Finch was incinerated a second later.  
  
"Shit, Delta 3 pull up." Mathias said with forced calm professionalism. The two remaining defenders pulled up just in time to avoid the Hessian's second stream of gunfire.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
On the bridge of the RNS Shiller, things were going from bad to worse. Three of the ship's turrets, as well as the officers manning them had been incinerated. Nine of the ships Valkyries and three of its Banshee's had also been destroyed, and the hull grew weaker and weaker.  
  
"Concentrate all fire on incoming torpedoes!" Screamed Von Clausen over the noise of an exploding terminal, "order all our remaining fighters to concentrate on enemy ships attacking us! Move the Frey closer to our left flank, we need more cover fire!"  
  
"Yes sir." Came the hurried response from the com officer.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Ensign Helga Gortz grunted with satisfaction as the Titan that had previously been slowly beating the Shiller to death exploded. She soon found herself another target in the form of a Hessian Stiletto. She swerved her Valkyrie to the left so as to place herself directly behind the enemy; and shuddered with her ship as shots from a Centurion that had been tailing her smashed into her rear shields.  
  
Gortz barely had time to execute a meaningless evasive manoeuvre. She and her fighter were incinerated moments after her mind told her hands to pull back on the flight controls.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Anger found its way through Valerie's forced calm as she saw the Rheinland fighter explode in her view screen. This anger forced her to conclude that the Corsair responsible for its destruction would make as good a target as any.  
  
"Nathan," she said over the com, "cover me whilst I kill that bastard."  
  
"Will do." Replied Nathan as he fell back slightly.  
  
Valerie opened fire on the unsuspecting pirate who at the time was busy firing at one of the Bretonian battleships. The hits collapsed the Corsair's rear shields, but the pirate was able to pull up before any real damage was done.  
  
"Shit." Valerie said irritably to herself as she followed suit and pulled up, quickly reacquiring her target as she did so.  
  
The Centurion was now well aware of Valerie's presence. The pilot released a mine which smashed into her forward shields. Valerie rocked with the rest of her ship and struggled to get her hands back on the flight controls that they had been knocked off of.  
  
Nathan had witnessed this event and fired a few shots of his own at the Centurion. The Corsair's shields were still damaged, and Nathan's firing succeeded in taking out one of the enemy's engines.  
  
The Corsair was eventually destroyed by a Windstalker from Valerie.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
"Captain, the reactor is hit!"  
  
A sudden numbness passed through Captain Eliza Kruger, a reactor hit meant only one thing. Her ship, the RNC Durandel, was going to explode in a matter of minutes, if they were lucky.  
  
"Sound the evacuation alarm!" She screamed over the noise of debris falling behind her, a short scream from behind, and then silence, informed her that her helmsman had been crushed to death.  
  
The alarm sounded throughout all the corridors, the crew piled themselves into escape pods which then shot away from the rest of the doomed cruiser.  
  
Most of the crew however were not lucky enough to reach an escape pod in time, and before anyone could inhale or exhale their last breath, the RNC Durandel exploded, killing 632 of the original crew of 800.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Sick horror gripped Von Claussen's face as he saw the Durandel explode. Years of military training and experience snapped his mind back to the current situation after only a few seconds however.  
  
"Start recovering escape pods." He shouted suddenly, "Order the fighters from the Thor to defend the escape pods."  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Elsewhere in the battle zone, Lieutenant Klaus Schroeder of Rheinland and Ensign Gary Cole of Bretonia were having an unlikely amount of success against a wing of six Corsair Titans. Realistically, the Corsairs would have incinerated the Crusader and Valkyrie that were firing at them. With the marks of dozens of Omega 5's indigenous mines on their hull however, the odds were tipped slightly.  
  
The Commander of the Corsair wing had foolishly decided to cut through one of the most mine riddled areas of the system, and his wingmen had foolishly followed him without question. The result was six badly damaged fighters, and three which weren't so lucky.  
  
"I love it when something like this happens." Said Cole over the com as he and Schroeder incinerated the damaged Titans, which were too badly damaged to evade their enemy's fire.   
  
*******************************************************************  
  
The Corsairs and the Hessians were, despite the destruction of the Durandel, starting to feel the pressure of the houses' attack fleet. The re-enforcements that had been sent from Cadiz and Ronnenburg had proved to be worse then useless. 56 of the Hessian's fighters and almost 70 of the Corsair's had been destroyed. Only 25 of the ally's fighters had fallen.  
  
Lieutenant Jiang Klim of Kusari had the pleasure of chasing down three damaged, fleeing Hessian Dagger class light fighters. One of which was incinerated rather effortlessly after getting in the way of the fire from Klim's Dragon.  
  
The other two scattered in different directions. One of the Hessian's launched a mine at the pursuing Dragon, which made such a small impact on its shields that it was hardly worth mentioning. The same Hessian later exploded after Klim's wingman sent a Windstalker missile up his exhaust.  
  
The final dagger made a slightly better job of surviving; the small, lithe fighter dodged and weaved between the mines and the shattered debris of the battle zone. Klim was finding it hard to keep up with the pestiferous pirate.  
  
In the end he found he didn't have to. The dagger was taken out by a skilful shot from the Nozawa.   
  
*******************************************************************  
  
After a few more minutes, the Corsairs and Hessians had either been obliterated, or retreated back to their bases. All of the escape pods from the Durandel had been recovered, and the Sabre that had been hounding Mathias and his wingmen was now, thanks to Mathias and his remaining wingman, scattered about the system.  
  
The fleet glided slowly and elegantly through the Omega 5 system, blasting away mines as they did so. There was a general feeling of triumph onboard the remaining ships, with an underlying feeling of anger and sadness with regards to those that had been lost.  
  
On the bridge of the Missouri, Captain Daniels sat in his chair pondering the system's layout. No military officer had ever seen Omega 5 and lived long enough to cast a glance at their Nav-map. In the corner of his eye, he noticed a sizable asteroid that the map told him was an outpost of the Corsairs. He found himself staring at the bright red image for a long while, watching the damaged fighters crawl into the hangers, trying to imagine the final moments of those left behind on the Durandel. As he did this, anger and blood lust swelled up within him.  
  
"Put me through to the rest of the fleet." He said after a few seconds.  
  
"Yes sir." Came the slightly puzzled response.  
  
"To all ships this is the Missouri. We must not leave the Durandel un-avenged. All ships proceed to," he cast his eyes over the map quickly, "Cadiz base. Let's repay the Corsairs for the warm welcome they showed us."  
  
A unanimous cheer from over the com was his response.  
  
To be continued. 


	4. Breather

Thanks once more to Bob Rijke for reviewing. I would say more but I pretty much covered it all in that email I sent you.  
  
Chapter 4: Breather  
  
The Corsairs had, rather uncharacteristically, fled Cadiz and darted for the Omega-41 jump hole once they realised that the House's battleships were swooping in to destroy them. The loss of eighty fighters had all but crippled their activities in this system, and they were unwilling to risk any more bruises until they had fallen back and regrouped.  
  
The result of this was an unmanned, defenceless asteroid for the fleet to destroy. They did so with a smile however, and another cheer broke out on the surviving ships as Cadiz base exploded, leaving behind only a few fiery rocks.  
  
After the cheering had died down, Daniels sat back down in his command chair and tried to banish the satisfaction from him so as to concentrate more fully on the task at hand.  
  
"Do you wish to head for the Red Hessian base in the system sir?" Asked Lieutenant Trenis with obvious bloodlust and an eerily strong desire for vengeance in his voice.  
  
"No," replied Daniels, feeling almost as disappointed as Trenis appeared to be, "we've wasted enough time here. Com, order all ships to resume our course towards the Omega 41 jump hole."  
  
"Aye sir."  
  
As Trenis punched in the co-ordinates and adjusted the thrust settings, he felt a hand being placed on his shoulder. Looking up, he found that it belonged to Daniels.  
  
"Don't worry Lieutenant," he said, "we'll get them on the way back."  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Elsewhere on board the Missouri, Trent was wandering towards the cabin that had been loaned to him during the voyage. He wasn't tired, in fact he was the opposite, the battle with the pirates had given him an adrenaline rush that was likely to keep him up all night.  
  
He knew from experience however, how quickly fatigue could emerge, and how dangerous that would be he was in flight when it struck.  
  
"Trent", shouted a familiar voice from behind him, "wait a second."  
  
Trent turned and saw Juni who was walking towards him; the speed of her pace, as well as her earlier shouting seemed to suggest that all was not right, and that she was bringing bad news.  
  
"Juni, is something wrong?"  
  
"What?" Juni paused for a second, confused slightly by Trent's assumption, then realising what impressions her sudden appearance must have gave him, "No, nothing's wrong. It's just, I wanted to thank you, for earlier, when he were fighting the Corsairs and…" She trailed off, Trent smiled slightly before saying.  
  
"Don't mention it; you'd do the same for me."  
  
Juni returned his smile and nodded. A slightly awkward silence lingered between the two as their brains hurriedly tried to conjure up a conversation topic.  
  
"Do you want to get a drink?" Juni asked when nothing better sprang to mind.  
  
"Sure," Trent replied, "I was going to sleep but there's about as much chance of that happening as there is of Liberty lowering taxes."  
  
Juni gave Trent a mock hurt facial expression before the two walked back down the corridor towards the bar.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Captain Von Clausen sat alone in his cabin with the Durandel casualty list suspended in the air by his left hand. The sight of all the names of people under his command who less then two hours ago had been alive.  
  
Von Clausen had lost people before, and he had learned, as best as was humanly possible, to accept it and move on. This was different however. The Durandel had been part of his fleet for years. He knew almost every member of her crew, several of whom were his friends. And in one instant, more then half of them had died.  
  
This fact didn't really sink in until the battle was over, at which time, a chill seemed to pass through Von Clausen, robbing him of the will to do anything except stand motionlessly and revel in his own shock. This soon passed however, and after giving his first officer command, he returned to his quarters so as to revel in misery until he was forced to fight again.  
  
After he had finished reading aloud every name on the list, Von Clausen set it down on the desk, stood up and walked to the window. After a few seconds of staring absently at the stars, he said in a quiet voice,  
  
"You have my word my friends, that you're deaths shall not be in vain, nor shall you be un-avenged."  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Valerie and Mathias found themselves casually strolling through one of the many corridors of the Missouri. Mathias had, like many of the ally's personnel, been feeling sorrowful and angry about those that had been lost in the early stages of the mission. Unlike many of the others however, Mathias also had to deal with the loss of a wingman.  
  
Mathias was no stranger to loosing people, from his final days at the academy, the numerous Libertarian pilots that had exploded at the hands of the Liberty Rogues and Outcasts, (one of which was his own wing leader), Mathias had learned that if you didn't accept the situation and move on, you'd be the next one on the receiving end of an explosion.  
  
This was different however. Mathias had never lost a wingman that he'd shouted at and even threatened to kill before. Despite the insincerity of that threat, he couldn't help but feel guilty.  
  
Valerie, who had been told of the situation was at present, trying to be re-assuring.  
  
"You did what you had to do. Ensign Finch should have paid more attention to the enemy that were still shooting at him as opposed to the ones that were dead. This isn't your fault Mathias."  
  
"I know," his voice was tired, "I must have said the exact same thing to myself about fifty times, I'll be alright soon, I don't know, maybe it's just because I've never lost anyone that young before. He couldn't have been more then 22 years old."  
  
"The best thing you can do now is move on, be glad that you destroyed his killer, and dedicate a few more dead Hessians to him in the future if it makes you feel any better."  
  
Traces of a smile found their way onto Mathias' face.  
  
"That's better," said Valerie with a smile emerging on her face as well, "come on, let's go get a drink. I think we could use one after that."  
  
"Sounds good."  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
On the bridge of the BAF Carina, Captain Isabella O'Brian sat in her command chair and cast slightly weary eyes over those around her.  
  
The Carina had not gone unscathed during the battle with the Corsairs and Hessians, due mainly to the fact that it was the Bretonian flagship. Neither of the two pirate factions were overly friendly with Bretonia, and destroying the flagship of their enemy would have inspired their soldiers for years, if they'd succeeded.  
  
The ship had taken three torpedo hits and lost two of its port turrets. Nine of the crew were dead, thirteen more were wounded. Five were likely to be dead within the next hour or so.  
  
They had given as good as they had got however. The Carina had personally obliterated 14 enemy ships; her fighters had destroyed a further 23, including the Hessian that had destroyed the Durandel.  
  
O'Brian poured a disturbingly large; and disturbingly hot stream of coffee down her throat. She found that the pain if not the caffeine stirred her slightly.  
  
"How long until we reach the Omega-41 jump hole?" She asked.  
  
"Little over two hours ma'am." Came the irritated response of the helmsman, who had been asked that question 14 times already.  
  
O'Brian nodded, the fleet was moving at a slower speed then normal so as to allow the pilots to get some rest, and to allow technicians to patch up the fleet's wounds. Another, unofficial reason was that their slow speed was the equivalent of a pretentious stride through the system. They were taunting the Hessians and the Corsairs over their defeat.  
  
"Commander Hawk."  
  
"Yes Captain?"  
  
"I'm going to get as much sleep as I can before we enter Omega-41. Wake me up in one and a half hours."  
  
"Aye-Aye ma'am." Hawk replied before saluting, as was a fairly recent tradition onboard Bretonian ships when the Captain left the bridge, and seating himself in the Captain's chair.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
The situation was hard to believe.  
  
This was the last thing that Juni currently wanted to be thinking about, but some distant, disturbed part of her brain forced it to stay in place.  
  
Ever since she and Trent had landed onboard the Missouri, she had seen him with different eyes. He was no longer her oafish, somewhat egotistic friend from the days of the Nomad war, now those faults were almost impossible for her to see, and what she did see was too confusing for her to make sense of.  
  
She gasped, almost involuntarily, as Trent's hands slid beneath her jumper and closed around her breasts. This was accompanied by the collision of their tongues in a kiss that remained unbroken as the two fell sideways onto the bed in Trent's cabin.  
  
The next minutes were a frantic, almost chaotic shedding of clothes which were flung in all directions. Trent's Jacket and Juni's underwear soon found themselves hanging awkwardly off of the ceiling mounted light. Retrieving them would doubtlessly prove troublesome later, but later was not what either of them were currently concerned with.  
  
Awareness of time, life and everything except each other drifted away from the two, this awareness returned after a few hours. Trent exhaled heavily and collapsed into the pillow. Juni lifted herself off of Trent's penis from her and placed her head into the space between Trent's shoulder and ribs a few seconds later.  
  
A silence lingered in the air, order had finally broken through the chaos of the last few hours and the awkward reality of the situation was now beginning to present itself.  
  
"Tired now?" Asked Juni after a few moments in an effort to break the silence.  
  
Trent laughed slightly before tightening his arms around Juni.  
  
"Do you think that was a mistake?" She asked after a few seconds, all traces of humour had vanished from her voice.  
  
"No." Said Trent unnecessarily loudly at almost the same moment as Juni was finishing her question. "No it wasn't, look there's," he broke off, these were not the easiest words to say, "I've, I've had feelings for you for years, ever since we had to escape from Liberty. I've never been able to tell you though."  
  
Juni tilted her head back and looked into Trent's eyes, he, almost reluctantly, did the same.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"Well for one thing I've barely seen you in the last five years, and the timing never really seemed right during the Nomad war when all of Sirius was shooting at us."  
  
Juni smiled slightly and returned her head to its previous position. Trent lowered his own head to kiss her hair before sinking it back into the pillow.  
  
The two were able to sleep for almost half an hour before the scramble alert sounded.  
  
To be continued  
  
O.K, my guess is that you've read electricity bills that were more realistic and remeniscent of a sex scene then that last section. I don't want to risk making this an NC-17 thing however and get my story removed.   
  
A poor excuse but it'll do.  
  
Oh well, hoped you liked this chapter. 


	5. Death both fast and slow

Thanks once more to Bob Rijke for reviewing. I emailed FF.net asking for a freelancer category but we'll probably be long dead before that happens. You never know though, it may draw more writers out of hiding.  
  
Glad you liked the last chapter. I won't say whether you're right or wrong since I don't want to give away any plot information. Sorry it took me a while to post this one but assorted things got in the way.  
  
Thanks also to David Cross, (who reviewed via an email.) I'm glad you enjoyed this and tradition.  
  
Oh well, on to chapter 5  
  
Chapter 5: Death both fast and slow  
  
The Carina was the first ship to open fire this time. Fortunately however, the enemy fleet wasn't as large as the one encountered in Omega-5. Instead it consisted of 20 Corsair centurion class fighters, 5 Hessian Sabre class fighters, and 2 Titan class fighters, one of which was missing a wing.  
  
Thus was the way in Omega-41, the abnormal radiation the Neutron star produced gradually tore away at the hulls of ships, more then one careless pilot had not kept an eye on their hull strength and promptly died. Others were unfortunate enough to die of radiation poisoning.  
  
Twice the number of allied fighters launched, each had been modified to carry extra nanobots which gave them a slightly better chance against the radiation then their attackers.   
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Lieutenant Commander Valerie Andriano was the first out of the Missouri this time, and she wasted no time in obliterating the first damaged Centurion she set eyes upon. The Corsair pilot was an example of the aforementioned 'careless' breed of pirate who failed to notice that his hull was barely at a third of its usual strength.  
  
Obviously the attackers had no hope of defeating the houses' fleet. The purpose of their attack was simply to take out a fighter or two, maybe even a cruiser, something that they could brag about for months.  
  
The houses' fighter pilots, (and Trent), had other ideas.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Ensign Tamoko Sachilowska emerged from the Nozawa and instantly found herself being shot at by a Centurion class heavy fighter. The weapons on a Centurion are both more powerful and more numerous then those on a Drake class light fighter. They also have stronger hulls, stronger shields and a greater capacity for shield batteries and nanobots, even with the enhancements made to the houses' fighters.  
  
Drake class light fighters however have the advantage of manoeuvrability, as Sachilowska was to demonstrate with ease. The Corsair's fighter was a huge, bulky, clumsy beast by comparison, whose fire was too slow to hit the lithe nimble Kusari fighter. This pattern continued for almost ten minutes until Lieutenant Rachael Webster of Bretonia managed to sneak up behind the corsair and finish him of with 4 windstalker missiles and a stream of gunfire.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
The would-be ego boost for the pirates was fast becoming a humiliating, and deadly defeat. All of the Titans and Sabres had been destroyed, nine of the Centurions had been destroyed and a further 3 had retreated back to 'Leon' base. One of which had exploded on the way due to a degrading hull and a lack of nanobots.  
  
Captain Von Clausen had decided, (despite endless protests from his first officer,) to take out a Valkyrie and kill a few criminals that way, he infrequently flew fighters now that he had taken up command of the Schiller battle group, but he had lost none of the exemplary piloting skill that had made him famous throughout Rheinland.   
  
Von Clausen soon found a target in the form an almost undamaged Centurion. He destroyed the two mines that the Corsair launched at him with relative ease before unleashing a deadly string of gunfire into the target's rear shields.  
  
The Corsair's evasive manoeuvres were easily matched by Von Clausen who unleashed another string of gunfire into the Centurion's rear shields, which promptly collapsed.  
  
As the satisfaction that accompanies a kill began to enter Von Clausen's head. He suddenly shuddered as a second Centurion fired at him from behind.  
  
His first instinct was to pull away, that however would result in two Centurions trying to kill him. He didn't have the luxury of thought for much longer however, and he soon realised that he would have to do something.  
  
Von Clausen killed his engines and watched as the second Corsair flew overhead. The pirate was still firing; obviously his rain hadn't yet told his fingers that his target was behind him.  
  
The Corsair's fire smashed into the first Centurion's engines, the inadvertent attacker pulled her finger off of the trigger too late and watched in horror as her comrade died by her own hand.  
  
Von Clausen hadn't forgotten about her, he closed the distance between them and deployed six catapult missiles. These smashed through the Corsair's shields and tore away fragments of the hull. The pirate exploded a few seconds later when Von Clausen opened fire with his ships guns once more.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
On the bridge of the Missouri, Captain Daniels grinned in satisfaction as he saw the final enemy attacker die at the hands of the LNS Basilisk. There had not been a single allied casualty in the latest pirate attack, and it seemed as if the remaining Corsairs and Hessians within the system were inclined to stay out of their way.  
  
"Sir," Lieutenant Trenis said, thereby breaking the quiet atmosphere of the bridge, "I'm getting readings which look like a second Corsair base. Do you wish to attack it sir?"  
  
It was a tempting offer, and Daniels was still feeling traces of bloodlust and a desire to avenge the Durandel, another dead Corsair base, preferably with some Corsairs in it this time would be help satisfy the desire for vengeance. However, the Corsairs would probably stand their ground and defend their base with whatever strength they had. They were running out of places to run to and couldn't afford to get bottled up in their home system.  
  
Also, there was the radiation. The fleet needed to save as many nanobots as possible for the battle with the Outcasts, as well as the return journey.  
  
"Again Lieutenant," sighed Daniels with genuine regret in his voice, "I'm afraid we'll have to let it live; for now."  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Nathan Remington sat alone in the bar and reluctantly swallowed the anti-radiation tablet that the ships medic had shoved into his hand upon landing. He never enjoyed taking pills, everything that came out of Cryer pharmaceuticals usually tasted like wet leaves, and on one occasion he had an allergic to one of their products that almost cost him his life. He had been hesitant to take any form of medicine or vaccine from that day onwards.  
  
He enjoyed the prospect of radiation poisoning even less however, which was why he had agreed to take the pill in the first place, given the choice he probably would have refused.  
  
The recent string of victories had improved Nathan's somewhat pessimistic view on the mission somewhat. He didn't have any illusions of an easy victory however. The worst was waiting for them in Omicron Alpha.  
  
It was probable that the Outcast's would be expecting them. Some passing Zoner may have already slipped through the jump holes and told them that a huge collection of warships was on its way to destroy them. This would make things more difficult. The Outcast's had a reputation for being expert flyers, and were anything but stupid. The fleet would most likely have to cut through everything in the Outcast's arsenal before they even reached orbit.  
  
It was thoughts like these which reawakened Nathan's pessimism. Whether he was feeling pessimistic or optimistic however, he made sure that he locked down his feelings, and concentrated wholeheartedly on the task at hand.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
The Nozawa, being the ship with the least amount of damage, was running point for the battle group. Captain Takeshi Deme was sitting in hi chair and trying to distinguish the faint outline of a jump hole in the distance. He never liked having to use jump holes, they were unreliable things at best. Usually they resulted in pilots being flung halfway across the galaxy with no hope of return to Sirius, or they simply crushed ships as if they were paper cups.  
  
"How long till we can jump?" Deme asked.  
  
"Seven minutes sir." Reileen Li replied.  
  
Deme nodded and returned to peering at the image on the view screen with nervous eyes.  
  
"Sir." Li's tone was now startled as opposed to fearful, "the jump hole is opening! Something's coming through!"  
  
"Battle stations! Com, inform the fleet of what's happening."  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
"What are we looking at?" Deme was little short of certain that the Outcasts had sent a fleet to attack the houses fleet before they reached Omicron Alpha.  
  
"They're coming through now sir, it looks like," she paused abruptly, "it's two cargo containers."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Scanning contents," Reileen Li's tone was one of confusion, "Sir, I'm reading organic material in their, possibly bodies. I'm also reading traces of cardamine."  
  
"Why wou…" Deme cut himself off in mid sentence, "we'd better get them onboard."  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
"It's the black ops team we sent to Malta." Juni said to the assembled captains whilst staring at one of the corpses. The look on its face was one of pain. All four limbs had also been burned off; this person had either died during interrogation or had simply been tortured to death.  
  
"Shit." Said Daniels, who was trying to avoid casting his eyes over the five bodies.  
  
"We found them stuffed into the two cargo containers," said Captain Deme in a voice that was tinted with anger, "Bags of cardamine had been placed into their mouths. Obviously the Outcast's are trying to send us a message."  
  
"Needless to say," said Captain Seamus Sorenson of the BAS Tornado, "We have to assume that the Outcasts are expecting us."  
  
"And that the planetary defence network is still operational." Added Juni.  
  
Daniels nodded; their chances of success had just taken a nose dive. Just one of the Outcast's planetary warheads could smash through any ship in the fleet.  
  
"Its likely to assume that there's an Outcast force on the other side of that jump hole waiting for us." Said Isabella O'Brian, "We can't risk going through."  
  
"We can't stay here much longer either." Von Clausen added.  
  
"Why would they let us know that they know that we're going to attack them?" Asked Captain Johnson of the Basilisk, "They've just thrown away the element of surprise."  
  
"Maybe they don't need surprise." Replied Deme grimly.  
  
"Captain Daniels," the voice that said this belonged to Trent, who soon become very uncomfortable as all heads turned to ace him.  
  
"Yes Mr. Trent." Daniels asked with a curious mix of impatience and hope in his voice.  
  
"I suggest that we send a number of fighters through to scout the area around the Omicron Theta jump hole. Also, we may be able to send fighters on bombing runs in Omicron Alpha to destroy the missile silos on the surface of Malta."  
  
Juni found herself staring at Trent for a few seconds, unsure of whether to roll her eyes or agree. The chances of the pilots on either front surviving were poor at best, however, there didn't seem to be another alternative other then turn their tales and run.  
  
"Unless someone has a better idea I don't see any other option." Daniels paused to allow someone to offer an idea, but was met with silence, "very well. Each ship shall deploy its top two pilots in one hour. Dismissed."  
  
To be continued. 


	6. Meanwhile

Marvellous, new reviewers have arrived. Thanks to all who reviewed and replies are at the end of the chapter. Sorry it took me so long to update.  
  
Right, onwards to chapter six.  
  
Chapter 6: Meanwhile  
  
It felt a bit like the briefing before 'the Trial'.   
  
This thought had been repeating itself in Valerie Andriano's mind as she listened to Captain Daniels drone on about threat assessments and patrol routes. Briefings were annoying things at the best of times. She wanted to be out battling with the enemy instead of sitting in an uncomfortable seat, worrying about them.  
  
In the briefing before the Trial, fear and dread had clung to the young Valerie Andriano like a limpet. Despite the unspeakably high success rate of the Liberty Navy against pirate forces, despite the fact that only twelve cadets had died because of 'the Trial' in the last 75 years, and numerous other statistics that should have been reassuring. In reality however they provided minimal comfort against the idea of flying into a huge gas cloud full of people who would kill you without a second thought.  
  
This briefing was far worse.  
  
Whereas a corner of Valerie's mind had told her, (during the briefing for 'the Trial', that she was almost certain to return, there was no such comfort now. In all probability, the Outcasts, assuming they were there, would smash the houses' fighters to dust seconds after they emerged on the other side of the jump hole.   
  
A sudden surge of fear gripped Valerie's mind as the pestiferous thought passed through it. She locked it down quickly enough however, and tried to focus on the briefing.  
  
"There are areas within the cloud that contain high amounts of radiation. Your patrol route takes you close to two of these points, as well as the Omicron Alpha jump hole itself. Proceed with extreme caution in these areas. Our Intel suggests that the Outcasts don't make a habit of entering Omicron Theta, however, given the nature of our mission," Daniels' voice became slightly lower, "they might make an exception."   
  
A smattering of humourless smiles broke out amongst the assembled pilots. There were twenty of them all together. Trent, Juni, Von Clausen, Klim, Mathias and Nathan were among them. All of them expected to be dead before the day was over.  
  
"Any questions?" Asked Daniels. Silence was his response.  
  
"Very well, you launch in half an hour."  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Miguel Hernandez, one of the most renowned and feared pilots of the Outcasts, was about ready to piss himself in terror.  
  
To the Outcasts, the mysterious alien beings that swam through the gas cloud to the far side of the system were widely regarded as spirits that watched over the corpses of the dead. Many doubted this however, due mainly to the fact that the aliens probably had better things to do. Now it seemed as if these aliens were in fact responsible for many of the deaths in the cloud.  
  
Hernandez veered to the left, the Nomad's fire still smashed into his rear shields however. The enemy fighter's fire was too powerful, even for a Sabre class fighter. Hernandez's own fire proved to be worse then useless.  
  
'I have to get back' he thought as he pulled up hastily, 'have to warn the others'.  
  
Sensors were only effective for a few kilometres in the cloud, but this was enough to inform Hernandez of a second 'unidentified fighter' that was closing in on him.  
  
"Fuck!" Screamed Hernandez, this was followed by another series of Nomad lasers punching into his rear shield.  
  
At least that's how it started. The shield soon collapsed and the Nomad's fire punched straight into Hernandez's engine. Hull and pieces of equipment tore away from the Sabre, and Hernandez, deciding that he had nothing to loose, ejected.  
  
Escape pods are basically cramped, annoyingly hot coffins that pilots dreaded entering. They also offered a limited view of the space surrounding it; this frequently became clouded due to condensation however. If pilots didn't get picked up quickly, they would spend their final three hours in extreme discomfort before dying of oxygen deprivation.  
  
Hernandez however was an exception to the rule. His escape pod was incinerated by Nomad fire seconds after leaving his doomed fighter.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Elsewhere in the Omicron Alpha system, Sophia Ramirez watched in disbelief and awe from the cockpit of her own Sabre as the swarm of blue and purple light descended upon her small fleet of fighters.  
  
It was as beautiful as it was deadly. The swarm was undoubtedly advancing upon Malta so as to destroy it. This thought sent the anger and hatred that Sophia clung to during combat crashing through the awe.  
  
Her contact list showed hundreds of them, all coded red. The pilots that had apparently seen such ships in the past, when the creatures were content to linger about their jump hole, said that the ships were a mesh of transparent purple and blue curves. It was a sight that anyone could stare at for hours assuming of course they weren't being shot at.   
  
Sophia banished these distracting thoughts and instead focused on the situation at hand. The plan was to allow the enemy fleet to come within range of the planetary defence network; the missiles would then eliminate all battleships and gunboats, leaving the fighters to her fleet.  
  
Fear suddenly clawed its way through the cocktail of anger and confussion. The enemy fighters outnumbered her fleet almost five to one. Chances of survival seemed poor at best.  
  
This fear was met with anger. Sophia had been raised to despise and abandon fear. It was, among the Outcasts, a pathetic distraction for the weak. She forced it down as far as she could, and watched with hope as the first of the missiles launched from the surface.  
  
The missiles were huge devices; long, slender and just one could obliterate a small city. They were also lightweight enough to allow them to reach their targets quickly. Sophia looked on as the long tubes weaved between her fighters, shrunk in her view screen and became hidden in the mesh of blue and purple that seemed to grow larger in front of her.  
  
Her eyes switched to her contact list, the missile's intended targets were highlighted in purple, any second now, assuming all went to plan; they would soon be a charred memory of a migraine.  
  
The Nomads had other ideas.  
  
Several of the fighters sped away from the fleet towards the incoming collection of nuclear warheads, and with every appearance of casual ease, blasted them to pieces. These same fighters were incinerated in the resulting explosions.  
  
The explosion lit up space around the fleet. Sophia and many of the Outcasts found that they had to look away, at first; she didn't know that her missiles had failed. When the light had died down she turned her head to the contact list, and stared in horror as she saw the intended targets, still highlighted in purple, still alive.   
  
Only one missile had managed to reach its target. The result was one gunboat and four surrounding fighters being torn to shreds, this loss to the enemy was barely worth mentioning.  
  
Her disbelieving eyes returned to her view screen. The enemy ships were now close enough for her to distinguish between them. She could almost hear the enemy's laughter at her people's pathetic attempt to defend themselves. The fear returned.  
  
"All fighters," her voice was chocked; she paused for a few seconds and forced iron into it, "kill them all!"  
  
A huge battle cry was her response as the one hundred Outcast fighters charged at the enemy.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
It took roughly four minutes for the Outcasts to be within firing distance of the Nomads. The resulting fire from the alien fleet was like a hailstorm. Purple balls of energy smashed into the Outcast fighters, the first wave took out half the fleet; and fifteen more ships were damaged to the point where they were in no condition to fight.  
  
The remaining ships simultaneously fired into the purple and blue storm. Concentrated fire took out two Nomad fighters early on; fire from the Nomads however took out all but three fighters however.  
  
Deciding that all was lost, Sophia rammed her ship into the hull of a Nomad battleship. She did so as she released a Sunslayer torpedo; the explosion took a sizable chunk out of the vessels flesh like hull. The remaining fighters tried to follow suit, but were soon obliterated by fire from two gunboats.  
  
After this pestiferous annoyance had been dealt with, the Nomads resumed their course towards Malta.  
  
  
  
To be continued. Something of a short one I know but I'm hoping that will help with dramatic effect or whatever the hell its called. The next chapter should be longer.  
  
Right, now for replies:  
  
Human00: It's not as hopeless as it seems. I once took out a Sabre with a Dagger. Seriously! Granted it took me about 10 minutes but still. As for what guns they were using, um, I'll leave that to your imagination seeing as my games based computer fucked up about a year ago, thereby preventing me from playing Freelancer, and I can't remember many of the names.  
  
As for the Trent/Juni thing; someone probably once said that you should only write about what you've experienced. I have experienced neither love nor sex which explains the vague crypticness, description wise. I'll elaborate in later chapters, fear not. This reply's getting to be pretty long. Oh well, thanks for reviewing.  
  
By the way, I'll try and get a friend of mine to review your story; he's a Final Fantasy fan.  
  
Jummeth: With regards to your Hispania idea in that email you sent, I don't know. The Hispania is a centuries old hulk of dead, fragmented, twisted metal that Bounty hunters have a strange habit of shooting at. Even if they patched it up, I can't really see it making an effective battleship. Oh well shame really, thanks for reviewing. Oh before I forget, they don't have to go into the Corsair's home system, just eerily close to it.  
  
Bob Rijke: You really want swarms of pirates to come to the aid of the Outcasts don't you? I might include some, or I might not. I haven't decided. Just out of interest, why did you review the last chapter by reviewing chapter one of 'Tradition'? Oh well, thanks for reviewing. The freelancer fan base increases. Soon, if all goes well, a category for it shall arrive.  
  
Angel-of-lightness: I didn't expect to see thee here Naz, oh well, once again the review has been inadvertently replied to so I'll have to think of something else to say.   
  
Three minutes later,   
  
I can't think of anything.  
  
Four more minutes  
  
Alright, I finally thought of something. Is it true that they're cancelling Angel or was that a misreading on my part? All attempts of mine to find out have been thwarted by circumstance. Do you know? 


	7. From doom to salvation, and back again

Thanks once more to all reviewing persons. Replies are at the end of the chapter. Sorry it took me so long to get a new chapter up but I've been dealing with writer's block, exams and a number of headaches.  
  
Also, there's an explanation to the one-sided Nomad/Outcast battle which comes later.

* * *

**Chapter 7: From doom to salvation, and back again.  
**  
The twenty fighters emerged from the Missouri, to those who were observing from the windows, the fighter wing looked ridiculously small compared to what the Outcasts undoubtedly had in store on the other side of the jump hole.  
  
No one in the fleet had any lingering hopes of a successful mission. The chances weren't great when there was hope of catching the Outcasts unprepared. The Outcasts were, thanks to cardamine, expert flyers. They also had no shortage of fighters, and they were in their home territory, (which the houses knew next to nothing about).  
  
Now that the Outcasts knew that the fleet were on their way, they could set numerous traps for them in the nebulas and asteroid belts which would kill off most if not all of the fleet's ships. Even if some ships made it through, the planetary defence missiles would finish them off.  
  
And so the only hope was for a small number of pilots to fly behind enemy lines and destroy the Outcast's planetary defence systems and the dozens if not hundreds of Outcast ships that got in their way.   
  
Success was impossible. The only hope anyone had was to stay alive and retreat to friendly space. Which was more then anyone was predicting for the twenty fighters.

* * *

The numbers on Mathias' contact list grew larger by the second. The fleet was vanishing fast behind them, and with it, any lingering hope of survival. He never entertained any fantasies in which he survived and the fleet marched forth to victory, he was going to die, he knew this, he'd accepted it, and he'd expected to feel the eerie calm that accompanies the certainty of death. Instead however, all he could feel was despair. Images of Manhattan, friends, family and dozens of other things which had kept him happy during the course of a lifetime kept entering his mind. The memories felt like postcards from another galaxy, brief, sweet reminders of what he'd never see again.  
  
He locked it down.  
  
The plan was to go through the jump hole, see the enemy fleet on the other side, and try to get back through the jump hole and warn the fleet whilst everyone else got shot to pieces. Whoever made it would be rewarded with a few extra seconds of life before an Outcast fighter came through and finished them off.  
  
A flicker of hatred flushed through Mathias at the thought of the Outcasts. It was thanks to them that quarter of Sirius was addicted to a drug that was slowly killing them; it was thanks to them that thousands of innocent lives had been lost, all in the name of piracy. It was thanks to them that Valerie and Nathan were about to meet an untimely end.  
  
"Alright," Juni's voice emerged from the radio and broke his train of thought, "the jump hole I just ahead, me and Trent," there was a recognisable, momentary flash of pain as she said his name, "Will go in first, all remaining liberty ships follow us, then Kusari, then Rhienland, then Bretonnia.  
  
The radio fell silent and Mathias watched as the tri-winged Defender flew slowly towards the jump hole. His gaze then turned to his hull status and after seeing that it had diminished by more then was preferable, he released three nanobots to deal with the problem. When he looked back towards the view screen, Trent's fighter had already gone through.  
  
He increased his acceleration slightly and made his way for the jump hole. His contact list and rear view display showed him that the Liberty fighters were all following him. Inhaling deeply, he flicked the required switches, and watched as his ship was pulled into Omicron-Theta.

* * *

It wasn't what she had expected.  
  
Juni's eyes flicked back to the contact list for the fourth time, what she saw was impossible.  
  
The Outcasts had placed a fleet on the other side of the jump hole for the houses' forces. But that fleet now consisted solely of debris and flaming hulks which drifted harmlessly about the vicinity of the jump hole.  
  
"What the Hell happened here?" Trent's voice, which was filled with the same confussion and disbelief that Juni was feeling, asked over the radio.  
  
Similar questions began to circulate among houses' fighters which had come through the jump hole. After the initial shock had subsided however, a strange, unexplainable and probably premature relief flooded through the twenty pilots. For some unexplainable, miraculous reason, the Outcast's ambush had been thwarted.  
  
Maybe.  
  
With the assumption, came the questions. Maybe the Outcasts had planted the debris there to lull the fleet into a false sense of security, and perhaps get them to send more ships into the system. Maybe a different, stronger pirate faction had attacked them.  
  
"Let's get this patrol over with," Juni paused for a few seconds, "And go home."   
  
A small round of cheering met this statement. The destruction of the Outcasts seemed to have reawakened the fighting spirit in many of the pilots. Death still seemed possible, even likely, but no longer certain.

* * *

The fighter wing encountered two more Outcast debris fields during the course of their patrol. The possibility that the Outcasts had planted these fields was becoming more and more unlikely. The onboard computers had estimated that the debris came from a total of almost 34 fighters. IT wouldn't make sense for the Outcasts to waste so many, especially when it wasn't necessary.  
  
Another disconcerting thing about the system was how quiet it was. Omicron Theta wasn't the most lively of places, but usually there were Corsairs around who were more then willing to take pot shots at passing freelancers, failing that, there were always Zoners who…  
  
Trent cut himself off in mid thought as something occurred to him. Checking his contact list, he felt an icy chill go through his as his fears were confirmed.  
  
"Juni, Freeport ten is missing."  
  
"Freeport 9?" To the best of the houses knowledge, there were 6 freeports."  
  
"Yes Freeport 9, the Zoners have an outpost in this system and now it's gone."  
  
"Are you sure we're not just outside sensor range?"  
  
"Positive, we should be able to detect it at this range, but we're too far out to detect debris, which tells me that it went the way of the Outcast ships we saw."  
  
A similar icy chill passed through Juni as the realisation set in. Someone, or something, had systematically destroyed every piece of technology in this system.  
  
And then she knew what had caused it.  
  
The Nomad battleship de-cloaked directly in front of her view screen, she didn't need the contact list to tell her that it was there.  
  
She froze in shock for a number of seconds. This was impossible, the Nomads had been sucked through the hyper gate, they were supposed to be neutralised.  
  
Well they're not! Snapped a part of he brain which was thinking more clearly, So pull you're head out of your arse, now!  
  
Years of experience kicked in, and Juni was instantly issuing new orders down to the other ships.

* * *

"-gage the Battleship! I repeat, engage the battleship! That thing belongs to the Nomads."  
  
Fear and shock grew within Valerie as her fears were confirmed. All she knew about the Nomads came from rumour, speculation and stories. And now she was staring at the bow of one of their battleships.  
  
In the corner of her eye, she noticed a new group of red names on her contact list.  
  
"Incoming fighters." Von Claussen half-shouted over the radio.  
  
"Trent, Von Claussen and Bretonian fighters, engage the battleship, all other ships, engage the Nomad fighters, keep them off our backs."  
  
The houses' fighters hit their afterburners and sped towards the smattering of purple and blue lights.  
  
Gunfire was exchanged between the two, thin walls of fighters. Most of the shots flew harmlessly off into space before dissipating, others crashed into shielding or hulls.

* * *

Ensign Henry Grimes of Bretonnia charged past the fighter engagement and sped towards the battleship. He just needed to get close enough to deploy torpedoes, a task made somewhat simpler by the fact that no one was chasing him.  
  
The figure in the contact list grew smaller at an agonisingly slow rate, this soon fell from Grimes' attention however, as a new contact appeared on his list, very close to him.  
  
The Nomad fighter decloaked and positioned itself behind Grimes. The Bretonian fighter veered to the left, but to no avail. The Nomad fired, and his first few shot tore through the Crusader's shields, and tore off the left wing. The follow up salvo finished Grimes off with contemptuous ease.  
  
Valerie was busy firing into the hull of a Nomad gunboat which had decloaked seconds after the battle began. The vessel was heavily armed; just one shot had taken out half of her shield strength. Fortunately however, the gunboat was hideously slow and slow to turn, which allowed her to use her own superior speed and manoeuvrability to evade the enemy's fire, whilst she slowly beat it to death with her own gunfire, and the occasional missile.  
  
The hull was stronger then scans of previous gunboats during the first Nomad war had revealed. Obviously, the Nomads had found a way to increase hull strength.  
  
Eventually, one blue explosion erupted on the gunboat's hull, this was followed by a second, three seconds later, the gunboat was a distant memory.   
  
"I need some help over here." Mathias' voice was more fearful then usual. Valerie's head snapped instantly to her contact list to try and find her friend in the ever growing list of red contacts. When she found him, she sped off to where the arrow in her view screen was directing her. She soon found herself flying towards Mathias' defender, as well as two Nomad fighters that were slowly tearing it apart.  
  
"Mathias, come about an…"  
  
Valerie cut herself off in mid sentence and stared in sick horror as Mathias Cavallo's fighter exploded.

* * *

For Trent, things were going from bad to worse quickly. The Nomads were constantly getting reinforced. The battleship was virtually unscathed, and there wasn't a single pilot who didn't have two or more Nomad fighters firing at them from behind.  
  
"We need to retreat!" Screamed an unknown Rheinland fighter pilot, "We can't hold out against this!"  
  
"We can't retreat!" Juni snapped in response, "They keep hitting us with cruise disruptors."  
  
That was news to Trent; then again, considering the pounding he'd been taking, he wasn't overly surprised he hadn't noticed.  
  
A scream from over the radio informed everyone of another downed pilot. And then another.  
  
Death was, once again, imminent. Trent found the Nomad battleship in his view screen once again and charged at it, not caring about the fighters that were shooting at him or even his own survival, the only thing he was concerned with was destroying the ship before him.  
  
Before he got the chance however, he noticed another ship de-cloaking in his view screen, hope and a renewed bloodlust flooded through him as he recognised it.  
  
The Osiris.  
  
To be continued

* * *

Right, I'll try and have a new chapter up sooner next time, for now though, have some replies:  
  
Bob Rijke: As you've probably guessed, anyone who tried to come to the aid of the Outcasts would find nothing but a smattering of charred fighters. I'm not ruling out the inclussion of other pirate factions later down the line though.  
  
Jummeh: Hmm, unfortunately, i seem to have replied to what eveyone said in the author's not at the start of the chapter. Hmm, what was going through the programmer's minds when they dreamed up the monkeys? Anyway, thanks for reviewing.  
  
daredevil2000: Yeah, probably, thanks for reviewing.  
  
I think that's everyone. 


	8. Renewed flame

**

* * *

Thanks once more to reviewers; I got my exams out of the way so updates should be more frequent from now on.

* * *

Chapter 8: Familiar faces**  
  
"Colonel Zane, this is Orillion." Juni's radio had taken damage and she could barely make out the words in the midst of all the static. What she heard sounded more like, 'Co…Z…i…Orill…" Common sense helped her to piece together the indistinguishable words.  
  
"Get your fighters onboard the Osiris now!" The static filled message continued, "We'll cover you."  
  
"Got it." Juni snapped in reply, "Alright people, you heard him. Disengage and land onboard the Osiris. Alpha 5, you first."

* * *

Alpha 5, also known as Nathan Remington, was barely managing to keep his ship from taking anymore fire then it already had. All but two of his ships gun ports and his rear turret had been destroyed, his left engine was in flames and his fighter's wings were gone.  
  
Juni's damaged radio meant that her message was as garbled as Orillion's had been, but with the new battleship's arrival and the status of his fighter, the message would have been clear even if Juni had only glared at him.  
  
A flash of purple in front of him told Nathan that another Nomad fighter was firing at him. He hastily pulled his fighter around and pointed it at the Osiris before activating his afterburners.   
  
The Nomad refused to give up the potential kill so easily. The alien fighter swung round and followed the flaming Defender towards the Osirs. Nathan's rear turret fired at the pursuing Nomad but barely scratched the hull. It normally took continuous fire from a full compliment of weapons to destroy a Nomad fighter; one turret was about as likely to have a notable effect as a spear would against a brick wall.  
  
The Nomad fired again; bright purple flashes flew gracefully past Nathan's ship. The next flashes came closer. The near miss still caused Nathan's fighter to shudder slightly.  
  
Fire from the alien ship stopped momentarily, Nathan stared at the image in his rear view display and felt a sharp surge of panic as he realised what was happening. The Nomad was now taking the time to line Nathan up in its sights as opposed to firing blindly. He considered breaking off, trying to evade the enemy, but that would probably only result in the Nomad following him, his already slim chance of reaching the Osiris vanishing, and his destruction coming a few seconds later.  
  
The enemy ship accelerated slightly, coming closer to Nathan's ship. It was taunting him, letting irrational hope of reaching the Osiris sink in before it delivered the deadly blow.  
  
Luckily for Nathan, the Order dealt a deadly blow to the Nomad first.   
  
Two, almost simultaneous explosions on the Nomad fighters hull caused it to break away from the engagement. The third catapult missile sailed past the Nomad and exploded a few seconds later.   
  
Nathan watched in confussion, and relief, as the two Order fighters chased the Nomad away from him, the same fighter exploded a few seconds later and the two order pilots moved off in search of new targets.  
  
"Liberty Defender, you are cleared to land, get onboard now!" The harsh commanding voice was unfamiliar to Nathan, and the message was not exactly typical of the landing instructions he was used to. He didn't argue however, and continued his flight towards the Osiris.

* * *

A surge of relief filled Valerie as she saw that Nathan had made it into the flight deck of the Osiris. This almost instantly gave way to the rage that had filled her after she had witnessed Mathias' untimely death.  
  
She found a suitable outlet for her emotions in the form of two Nomad fighters, the two which had torn Mathias's ship to dust.  
  
They didn't notice her at first. They were too busy taking pot shots at an Anubis class heavy fighter that was firing at a gunboat. Valerie bared her teeth in a bloodthirsty grin at her good fortune, lined one target up in her sights, and fired.  
  
The blows didn't visually appear to affect the Nomad ship in the slightest, but her HUD told her that the enemy ship's hull was weakening. The Nomad soon realised the same thing as it pulled away from its target and attempted to flee.  
  
Valerie fired four missiles at the fighter as it began it's evasive manoeuvres. Two of them hit, but those two were enough to send it spinning out of control with barely any hull strength left.  
  
Unbidden, Valerie remembered something that a young Libertarian ensign had told her shortly before the mission had started.  
  
"I know ma'am" the voice recited in her head, "I can't resist it though, seeing the pirates run whilst one of my missiles quickly catches up to them and blasts them to pieces, beautiful stuff."  
  
"Thank you Mr. Alvarez." Valerie said quietly before sending another missile into the crippled Nomad ship, the resulting explosion was beautiful, in more ways then one.  
  
The second Nomad fighter proved more troublesome. It had witnessed the destruction of its wingman and seemed eager for vengeance. The fighter placed itself behind Valerie and fired.  
  
The sharp jolt send Valerie flying forward, her harness pulled her back into her seat and after recovering as best as she could from the initial shock, she punched her acceleration and swerved away from the attacking Nomad.  
  
The enemy fighter stayed with her and continued firing. Valerie deployed a series of mines in the enemies path, trying to get it off of her back, all of these were shot down effortlessly.   
  
"Alpha 2, come about to…"  
  
The voice of the pilot who was offering assistance died suddenly after a brief, static filled scream. Valerie contemplated the incident in momentary confussion before her attention returned to the Nomad behind her; which had vanished.

* * *

"How long until they're in firing range?" Asked Casper Orillion on the command deck of the Osiris. The Nomad battleship which had been largely silent in the battle was now heading straight for the Osiris, along with three gunboats and fifteen fighters.  
  
"Three minutes." Came the reply from Lord Hakera of Kusari, who had returned to assist the Order of the front lines. When news reached his ears of renewed Nomad activities in Sirius, he had insisted on returning to the Osiris, unwilling to stay on Honshu and hope for the best.  
  
"Launch all remaining fighters; send everything we can spare at that thing's escorts. All turrets, target the battleship the second into firing range. Hakera, get to a fighter."  
  
"Aye sir."

* * *

The first of the remaining fighters were in space less then a minute after Orillion had given the order. There were twelve order fighters in total that were flying to defend their ship. Five Anubis class fighters and seven modified dagger class light fighters. Several of the Order's fighters had also noticed that their flagship was under attack and had moved to engage escort fighters or gunboats.  
  
The Nomads were loosing. Order fighters, as well as those belonging to the houses who had decided to stand and fight when the battle first seemed to be going well, had destroyed many of the enemy fighters in only a few short minutes. Most however, had simply vanished without a trace. None of the pilots who had noticed this were paying much attention to the fact, given the circumstances.  
  
"All Anubis class fighters," Hakera said to the twelve pilots accompanying him, "engage the gunboats. Daggers, keep the fighters off of our backs."  
  
"Yes sir." Came the simultaneous response from the pilots.  
  
A fierce battle was already underway by the time the twelve ships were in firing range. Two Nomad fighters had already been destroyed, as had two Kusari fighters and one Liberty defender.  
  
The five Anubis class fighters descended upon the closest gunboat. Each fighter pounded it with their guns and the occasional torpedo. The fleshy hull tore apart after only a few seconds.

* * *

Trent, who was flying an Eagle class civilian heavy fighter, was having the most luck against the Nomads. This in turn had allowed him to take a few pot shots at the battleship with the occasional Sunslayer torpedo. He doubted he could do any real damage to it before it reached the Osiris, but he figured that every little helped.  
  
"Trent!" The voice of Lord Hakera sounded suddenly over the radio.  
  
"Hakera?" Trent replied in disbelief.   
  
"Engage the fighters." With that, the image of Hakera's face vanished.  
  
After a moment of confussion, Trent found a suitable target in front of him and opened fire.

* * *

The gunners onboard the Osiris didn't need to wait for anyone to tell them to fire. They sent gunshot after gunshot flying towards the Nomad battleship, which was in turn sending gunshots back towards them.  
  
Only one of the gunboats was still left alive. The other had been taken out by the five Order fighters, as well as Juni. The fire from this beast was focused mainly on the fighters that were shooting at it. The Osiris' gunners ignored it trusting that their own fighters would see it off without too much trouble.  
  
Orillion stared at the status display in front of him and tried to discern from it how the battle was progressing. There was too much happening however; the Osiris and the Nomad ship were loosing hull integrity at almost the exact same speed. There seemed to be no majority of fighters exploding, despite the Osiris' greater numbers.  
  
"Com, instruct the house fighters that are still out their to focus their fire on the battleship." He said after a few moments.  
  
"Yes sir." Came the response.

* * *

Nathan Remington, who had been issued a new Defender and thrown back into the fight, wasted no time in launching whatever he could at the Nomad battleship. Fighters were pounding at it from all angles; trails of light were flying gracefully into the hull which was now weakening with much greater speed.  
  
The Nomad fighters were trying desperately to pick off the fighter's attacking their battleship. After roughly two minutes they were able to pick off one Anubis and a Crusader. Unfortunately for them however, there were still too many Order fighters, and Trent, firing at them. Their distraction led to five early Nomad deaths.  
  
The battleship veered away from the Osiris, its captain, (if it had one), had decided that they couldn't win against the Order and needed to get the ship away from danger.  
  
The Order had other ideas.  
  
The pounding on the Nomad's hull continued. The remaining gunboat had been torched by the five fighters, which were now launching every torpedo they had at the battleship.  
  
A blue explosion punched segments of the hull into space. This was followed by a second, then a third. Finally, the battleship was little more then a memory.  
  
Cheering broke out onboard the Osiris and in every surviving fighter. With the exception of Valerie's and Nathan's. They had paid too high a price for this victory.  
  
"Alright people," Boomed Juni's triumphant voice, "Let's get out of here."  
  
To be continued.

* * *

Right, now for replies:  
  
daredevil2000: Contrary to what this chapter may suggest, asking me when I'm going to update won't get me to update sooner. It's harder to get inspired for this story. And in answer to your question, the Osiris is the most powerful battleship in the game, I think. Thanks for reviewing.  
  
Bob Rijke: I know I said that Hakera wouldn't be turning up, or something similar, but I think it'll be better with him in it. Anyway, thanks for reviewing.  
  
Jummeh: I'm not planning to kill everyone, but one or two deaths might be good for dramatic effect or some such filth. Anyway, thanks for reviewing. They should really have left it at one Matrix film in my opinion. 


	9. Bad luck

**Thanks once more to all reviewers; I doubt I need to tell you where replies are.  
  
Chapter 9: Bad luck**  
  
The Osiris had not changed.  
The decks were filled with officers from all parts of Sirius, all of whom were making their way hastily from one part of the flight deck to another in order to carry out their assorted duties. All of their faces, as Trent remembered from his first visit, also revealed fear.

Anubis class heavy fighters were lined up against one wall; most showed some sign of damage from the previous battle, mostly in the form of missing wings or scorch marks in the hull. Technicians were swarming about these ships, hastily trying to repair damaged circuitry, attach replacement parts, or seal hull fractures. There was a general atmosphere of efficiency that occurred despite everyone's well justified nervousness. Trent couldn't help but feel an unexpected and somewhat uncharacteristic surge of pride at this.

"Colonel Zane, Colonel Trent." Called a familiar voice, bringing Trent's sightseeing to a sudden halt.  
"Sir." Replied Juni formally. Trent simply nodded a greeting at the advancing figure of Casper Orillion.  
"Orillion what is going on?" Asked Von Claussen, who appeared at Juni's left, "How is it possible that the Nomads are here? I though..."

"We don't know." Orillion replied his typical, calm voice. "Somehow the Nomad's have escaped the hold the hyper gate had on them. In any case, if you'll all follow me, we should continue this in the briefing room and get out of the technician's way." With that, Orillion turned and began to walk back the way he came, with Trent, Juni, Von Claussen and Lord Hakera at his heels.

* * *

"As you know, after we activated the hyper gate and drove he Nomads out of Sirius, the Order maintained a presence within the Dyson sphere so as to monitor the hyper gate, watch for any future Nomad activity and so forth." A unanimous nod answered Orillion's statement.  
"Some of you are most likely unaware that we also constructed several bases there; including a shipyard, research station and surveillance station. The Order's entire fleet was also stationed there with the exception of a handful of patrol ships One week ago," Orillion removed a small black data chip from his pocket and fed it into the appropriate slot on the table, "This happened.  
The lights in the briefing room dimmed abruptly, and a bright, holographic image in the centre of the room. Trent immediately made out two pieces of human built hardware that were clearly the research station and shipyard. He also noticed the occasional fighter passing in and out of view. To the far left he noticed a segment of the Nomad city, the rest was cut of by the edge of the display. Above this, the screen flickered and occasionally purple or blue due to light from the hyper gate. Background noise from radio transmissions could also be heard. Two Order pilots were complaining about the monotony of patrol duty. Docking clearance was being given to a Rheinland freighter, and a squadron of fighters was giving a status report to their wing leader.  
This show continued for roughly two minutes before it began to change. The display changed and was now focusing near three of the Nomad's disabled weapon platforms. The voices changed from uttering status reports to uttering statements of confusion and fear, and it wasn't hard to see why.

The display now showed four Nomad battleships decloaking, alongside each one was five gunboats and a dozen fighters. The display abruptly switched to the hyper gate which was showing what looked like hundreds of Nomad fighters pouring from it.  
"All fighters engage." Shouted a female voice on the display, "Man all turrets."

"There's too many of them." This voice was Orillion's, "We have to get out of here. All station personnel gather what equipment you can and proceed to evacuation points. All other ships, engage the Nomads, you have to buy our people as much time as possible." The screen cut abruptly to a small fleet of Order ships. Trent made out four battleships that resembled the Osiris, and what looked like a hundred fighters that were from all four colonies as well as the Border worlds.  
Purple flashes appeared on the screen as the Nomad fleet opened fire. Some of the lighter fighters such as Daggers and hawks were destroyed almost instantly. Bright flashes where Nomad weapons impacted fighter's shields were also visible.  
"I can't bre..."

"My hull is..."

"Shields failing, reactor..."

"Long live Bre..."

"All ships return fire!" Attention turned from the static filed epitaphs to the fire of the Order fleet. The screen cut now to the Nomad fleet which looked more like a solid wall of purple and blue. It was difficult to determine where one ship ended and the other began.  
Multi-coloured flashes from the Order's guns, as when as vapour trails from missiles slammed into this wall. Multiple explosions revealed the destruction of fighters and gunboats, but the explosions were nowhere near as plentiful as they had been with the Order's ships.  
The screen cut again, now showing three Anubis class fighters. A corner of Trent's brain that was somehow unaffected, unlike the rest of him, by what he was seeing thought briefly that the display resembled a cheap science fiction film. He rebuked himself for the thought and concentrated on what he was seeing.

The three Order fighters all unleashed two Sunslayer torpedoes at a Nomad battleship that was moving towards the shipyard. These fighters peeled off after deploying their payloads and the screen remained in place as the torpedoes moved in towards the Nomad hull.  
The detonation of six Sunslayers so close to each other caused a huge explosion on the hull of the Nomad battleship. Segments of hull were ripped away, and a series of familiar blue explosions erupted on the hull. Soon the battleship was no more.

Despite herself, Juni raised her fist slightly and grunted in triumph as she saw the Nomad battleship die. She then lowered her arm, irritated at herself and continued to watch the battle.  
More dying screams could be heard from Order pilots. The screen was beginning to show far more Order losses then Nomad ones, and more fighters and gunboats continued to emerge from the hyper gate.

A lone Dragon was pursuing a damaged Nomad fighter that was attempting to retreat towards friendly ships. The pilot of the Kusari fighter was having a hard time gaining successful hits, the Nomad kept employing skilful evasive manoeuvres, dodging and weaving around the beams of energy that were being thrown at it. This continued for a few seconds before a second Nomad fighter appeared behind the dragon and opened fire. A scream of pain could be heard from the pilot before the ship was incinerated.

The screen cut again but to something different. The science station now came into view, there was an Osiris class battleship stationed next to it, as well as debris from fallen Order pilots.  
The station, the battleship and the six weapon platforms stationed around it all opened fire towards the screen, where presumably a sizable Nomad force was advancing.  
The Nomad ships, which were still off-screen, returned fire. The gunshots they produced was almost triple that of what the Order's. The battleship was taken down after only a few seconds, as were the weapon platforms.

All fire stopped abruptly, apart from the science station's. After a few seconds of this, three Nomad fighters came into view and flew towards the station before coming to a stop a few meters away from it. Juni couldn't help but notice that these fighters looked bigger then usual.  
Three blasts emerged from the Nomad ships; it was the same kind of weaponry that had been used to destroy Freeport 7.

As the station was torn apart by a series of huge explosions. All that anyone could hear where the screams of the dying, and then silence as the station was reduced to rubble.  
"Holy shit!" Trent said, his voice almost drowned out by the sound of more Nomad gunfire.  
The screen went blank abruptly and the lights returned to their normal level of brightness. Orillion had decided that they had watched enough.

"Only fourteen transports, fifty fighters and two battleships, including the Osiris, were able to get away from the Sphere. A cloaked probe that we left in the area shows that the Nomads are getting re-enforced with new ships almost daily, and as you may have noticed, their weapons and hull strength have been enhanced. We believe they're preparing a huge invasion fleet outside the sphere. The attacks on Omicron Alpha and Theta are minor skirmishes by comparison to what they most probably have planned.

"That doesn't make any sense." Von Claussen said, almost successfully concealing the rage in his voice, "Why not just swoop in with one giant fleet and eliminate us all in one fell swoop?"

"We don't know." Came Orillion's simple answer after a moment's pause he continued speaking, "The Outcasts are already on the verge of extinction, most of their survivors are currently in our medical bay."

"Mission accomplished." Said Juni in a tone of voice that was a curious fusion of sadistic humour and fear.

"That's enough Colonel." Orillion said in as harsh a tone of voice as anyone in the room had ever heard from him.  
"What do we do now?" Lord Hakera asked suddenly, hoping to return attention to the Nomad threat.  
"We need to mobilise the militaries of the house systems and prepare them for invasion. First we'll rendezvous with the fleet in Omega 41, that way we'll have a better chance of coming out of a fight in one piece."

"Sir we've..." The young Kusari officer didn't need to finish her statement. Captain Takeshi Deme could see the Bretonain battleship Carina, Isabella O'Brian's flagship explode with all hands from the view screen.  
His shock at this sight was brought to an abrupt halt as another round of Nomad bombardments shook the Nozawa.

"Where are out fighters?" He shouted, "We need more cover fire."

"Sir, most of our fighters have either been destroyed or are too badly damaged to be of any assistance."

"We've got to get out of here sir." Screamed Commander Linda Yamaguchi, the Nozawa's first officer, "We cannot win." The ship shook again ad in the view screen, Deme watched as another of the fleet's fighters, a Rheinland Valkyrie was incinerated by two Nomad fighters.  
"Get me Captain Daniels."

"I can't sir," Came the panicky response, "Communications are offline."

The Missouri was taking a pounding.

Two support girders had already fallen from the ceiling, one had crushed the astrogation station, and Luitenant Trenis with it, and another had come unnervingly close to Daniel's chair. Fires were breaking out on the bridge faster then crew members could deal with them, and half of the battleship's turrets and fighters were gone.

"Patch me through to the fleet." Daniels shouted over the noise of burning fires and exploding stations."

"Aye sir."

"All ships this is the Missouri, retreat! I repeat, get out of this system. Get back to Cambridge!"

"Message sent sir." Daniels' felt a sudden surge of relief at the thought that some of the houses' combined fleet might just survive, doubtful though that seemed. Part of him still couldn't believe that the Nomad's had attacked. These creatures were almost mythical, and were supposed to be powerless thanks to the Order.

"Sir the reactor is hit!" Screamed an officer whose face was hidden behind a growing fire.  
Daniels nodded, he had been expecting this.  
"Order all hands to aban..." Before he could even finish his sentence, the flagship of the Liberty Navy exploded, killing everyone on board.  
  
**To be continued.  
**  
**I've finally begun to scour through the chapters and correct things, now the formatting in this chapter should make it much easier to read. I know i said this before and nothing happened but keep an eye on chapter 4.  
  
Right, now for replies:  
  
bob rijke: Kusari would be able to turn its attention to the Outcasts what with the blood dragons overthrowing the shogunate, Rheinland probably has some frustration to take out on someone, (so why not the Outcasts). Liberty does have outcasts and a cardamine problem, and you're probably right about bretonia but i couldn't leave them out. In any case, thanks for reviewing.  
  
Hahukum Konn: Well it wouldn't be any good if they accepted defeat would it? Now that they have the ability to exterminate humainity once and for all they might as well take advantage of it. In any case, thanks for reviewing.  
  
daredevil2000: Thanks, I hope you enjoyed this chapter more then the last. I'll try and get a new one up soon.**


	10. Worth dying for

**Thanks to David Cross for the email he sent. I saw that rumour about two days before you told me about it. Damn cost cutting Rheinland government, they should be hung by their thumbs. In any case, I look forward to your next update.**

**Anyway, onwards to chapter 10.**

**Chapter 10: Worth dying for**

Getting out of Omicron Theta had proven to be more difficult then expected. Nomad fire from the previous battle had damaged the ship's sub light engine and although the damage was easily reparable, the Osiris was stuck until repairs were complete.

Little short of everyone who had the opportunity decided to use this time for sleep.

Trent lay on the uncomfortably hard bed in the nondescript cabin that he'd been issued. The beds on the Osiris were as hard as Trent remembered them, and even Juni's sleeping form sprawled over him was doing little to ease the growing pain in his spine, or his fear.

Unbidden, an image of the Nomad that had crawled from the corpse of Chancellor Nieman entered Trent's mind. The inhuman beast seemed to generate an aura of malevolence and evil that left Trent unable to do anything except stare at the creature until President Jacobi shot it. Five years later, (and especially now), the image still sent chills up his spine.

_It wasn't fair, _he told himself before promptly rebuking himself for whining about the facts of life. He remembered the enormous, collective relief that had been felt as the Nomads were whisked away by the Hypergate, and mankind in Sirius was safe from annihilation. Now that moment of relief, of pride and of peace was gone. Humanity was now faced with destruction once again, and Trent couldn't see how it could possibly survive this time.

Part of him always believed that this day would come. But all evidence seemed to point to the contrary, the Nomad's hold over their power supply should have been broken, they should have been able to fly their ships and, if he understood correctly from what he had overheard from two Order technicians, spent the rest of their days flying involuntarily from one Hypergate to another until they either died out or the stress on their hulls tore their ships apart.

But that, for whatever reason, hadn't happened, the Nomads were back and the houses were thoroughly unprepared for their arrival. After the end of the war, humanity reawakened the time honoured tradition of fighting amongst itself. Militaries, police and corporations fought against pirate factions, rebel factions fought against corrupt governments and dutiful military forces, the houses grew weaker and people died.

The recording that Orillion had shown him also sprung to mind. Trent could hear the dying screams of people whose ships had been torn in two by Nomad fire. He could picture the people on the research station being incinerated or crushed beneath pieces of falling debris as the station exploded. He also remembered the people onboard Freeport seven; people running down a corridor to the escape pods, only a few steps away from him, and then being crushed to death as the ceiling gave in. In order to escape, Trent had had to run over their bodies.

He shook the image loose, gently pushed Juni off of his chest and onto the mattress and sat up. Sleep seemed as far away as Leeds, and at least in a sitting position his spine felt better.

Juni mumbled a few incomprehensible words in her sleep which momentarily distracted Trent from his unpleasant train of thought. Looking at her now, he felt a fresh surge of panic within him. He couldn't loose her now, not when they'd finally started something that he had only dreamed about for five long years. He would win, he promised himself, he would kill every Nomad blindfolded and with his bare hands if he had to if it meant she would be safe.

Almost as if she could sense the intensity of Trent's thoughts, Juni woke with a series of blink and groans of discomfort due to the hard mattress. After attaining a suitable state of consciousness, she noticed Trent staring down at her with a slight smile on his face and sat up next to him.

"Hey," she said softly, pulling the thin cover over her torso in an attempt to keep warm. "Can't sleep?"

"No." Trent tried to make the statement sound light-hearted, but his emotions wouldn't allow it.

Juni was silent for a few moments. She had never before seen Trent scared. He always seemed to treat everything with a calm detachment or occasionally, irritation. She once believed that his concerns began and ended with his own neural net account. It hadn't taken that long for her to realise that this view was thoroughly wrong however. And what lingering race of this view remained in her died when Trent risked his own life to activate the Hypergate, even when it looked like the artefact was about to explode and take him with it.

Despite her change of opinion however, the fact remained that Trent always seemed to employ a calm callousness to most situations. Even after the end of the first Nomad war he never seemed to show anything more then a slight grin at the thought of victory.

Now the signs of fear were clearly evident, and this was a grim reminder of the direness of the situation.

"I know how you feel," she said, placing a weary arm around the back of Trent's neck and resting it on his shoulder, "We're all scarred."

"Its..." Trent cut himself off and exhaled, "I just don't see how we can win this, the Nomads are stronger and more numerous then ever and we..."

"Trent," Juni said, deciding to cut him off before he became too hysterical, "Do you remember what things were like during the first war?"

"Vaguely." Trent responded, pushing his fear down as far as it would go.

"The colonies were in disarray, the Kusari navy was all but gone. Liberty and Rheinland, under Nomad control, were shooting everything they saw, and people were dying left right and centre."

"You really know how to lighten people's moos don't you?" Trent said, his voice now calmer, Juni smiled slightly.

"My point is that in spite of that, we won. And we're stronger now then we were, and all of Sirius recognises the Nomads as our combined enemy. We're stronger now then we were then, and we have a better chance of winning. And if we won last time then..."

She trailed off when she noticed that Trent was looking better.

"If you can't sleep," Juni said; her other hand moving slowly down Trent's chest, "I can think of something un to do."

Juni's encouraging speech had driven most of Trent's fear away temporarily, and her offer of sex had all made him, for the moment, forget what a Nomad was. He turned towards Juni and wrapped his arms around her neck. The two kissed for what seemed like hours, barely even pulling themselves away from each other to breathe.

"Colonel Trent, Colonel Zane, report to the flight deck immediately. Repeat, Colonel Trent, Colonel Zane, report to the flight deck immediately."

Trent was almost tempted to ignore the message, but remaining traces of common sense broke through the moment of passion and he, reluctantly, pushed himself off of the bed.

"Shit." Juni said, casting an angry glance in the direction of the loudspeaker.

"I'm going to kill him." Juni wasn't sure whether Trent meant Orillion or the annoying voice on the loudspeaker. Fortunately for whoever he meant however, there wasn't any sincerity in his voice.

"What do you think this is about?" Juni asked whilst reluctantly pushing her weary form off of the bed.

"This is the Osiris; all that this place gives you is repeated opportunities for suicide."

Juni laughed again at this, and promptly stopped laughing when she realised that this was probably the reason for their being summoned to the flight deck.

* * *

"Ah, Colonel Trent, Colonel Zane," Orillion maintained his trademark calm in spite of the potentially dire situation that humanity was facing, "I'm glad you're here. I believe you already know Lieutenant Commander Andriano."

Trent and Juni nodded a greeting, Valerie did the same shortly afterwards.

"We're approaching the Omega 41 jump hole. I want you three to fly through the hole and make sure we don't end up flying into a Nomad ambush, and also to inform your fleet of the situation. Any questions?"

Silence, or the shaking of heads, was his answer.

"Good, then I'll see you when you get back."

"Yes sir." Juni and Valerie said almost in unison. Trent simply nodded.

* * *

"Alright people, the jump hole isn't far from here, let's move out."

Juni's face vanished from Valerie's HUD and she flicked the switch that would instruct the ship to fire up her cruise engines.

It felt good to be behind the controls of a war machine again, she found that, if nothing else, it provided a distraction from painful memories of Mathias' fiery demise.

Part of her still couldn't believe that he was gone. She half expecting to see him in the Missouri's bar when she returned, complaining to the barkeeper about the foul taste of Liberty ale, or the vast numbers of inept corporations who lacked the insight to provide better escorts for their own ships.

But then she remembered that this wouldn't happen, Mathias was dead, he had been killed in the line of duty and one of the two enemy fighters that had destroyed his ship had escaped. She didn't even have the consolation of knowing that she'd avenged his death.

_We don't have time for this Valerie; _Part of Valerie's mind told her,_ we can't afford to be distracted, not now._

Valerie nodded to herself and forced the images of her deceased friend away, and tried to hold back the tears that were building up behind her eyes.

"Hey Juni," a male voice, faint seeing as the message was not intended for her, the onboard computer had intercepted it. _The_ _Freelancer_, she told herself. "How are we going to detect Nomad vessels if they're cloaked? The Nomad's aren't going to just sit there in full view."

"Orillion had our fighters outfitted with a new kind of sensor technology. It's similar to the Navy satellite we destroyed in New York five years ago. We'll be able to see any cloaked Nomad ships."

"Right."

_Navy satellite? _Valerie thought, _They destroyed Navy hardware?_ _Am I flying with terrorists? _She soon remembered that five years ago meant that Liberty was under Nomad control, and that Trent and Colonel Zane were most likely flying for the Order.

Against the odds she smiled at this thought, grateful for the brief moment of humour that offered a momentary relief from the fear and depression that had haunted her ever since she landed onboard the Osiris.

Her eyes flicked to her contact list and she noticed that the jump hole was now very close. She deactivated her cruise engines when it was one kilometre away.

"Alright," Juni said, "I'll go first, followed by Trent. Andriano, you bring up the rear."

"Yes ma'am."

For the first time, Valerie considered the possibility of a Nomad force on the other side of the jump hole. Depression quickly gave way to anger. She wanted the chance to make the bastards pay, even if it only meant taking out one or two fighters.

She initiated the docking manoeuvre as soon as Trent vanished through the jump hole.

To be continued.


	11. Necessary Evil

**Thanks once more to all reviewers. Replies are where they should be. I continue to pester for a freelancer category; so far they have ignored me. Oh well.**

**Also, I'm trying to correct formatting problems in some chapters but it's proving to be surprisingly awkward. I'll keep working on it.**

**Chapter 11: Necessary evil**

Juni found that she could do nothing but sit and stare in horror at the newly formed debris field after her ship exited the jump hole. This in turn led to her forgetting to get clear of the jump hole. The result of this was a collision with Trent's fighter that propelled her ship forward several meters.

"What the hell is wrong with...?"

The angry shouting from over the radio died abruptly as Trent realised what Juni had been staring at.

The dead metal was floating almost peacefully amongst the planetary fragments field. The larger pieces were clearly recognisable as pieces from House capitol ships. In his field of vision, Trent could clearly make out hull fragments from the Shiller, two Bretonian battleships and a Liberty dreadnought were clearly. His view was then blocked as a segment of the KNS Nozawa's hull drifted past his cockpit.

* * *

No one noticed Valerie Andriano's arrival, and with fresh shock swiftly surfacing within her at the sight of the dead hulks of battleships. Disbelief came to her, a refusal to believe that the debris in front of her, which showed the remnants of the houses' combined attack fleet, and more specifically, the Missouri.

To her, the LNS Missouri was more then just the Liberty flagship. It was her home, and a source of immense pride for her, a symbol of what her exceptional abilities had earned her. And furthermore, it was where most of her friends also lived and served.

On top of Mathias' death, this thought was almost unbearable. For a moment she felt as if she was going to start crying. A distraction came however, in the unlikely form of a deceased Libertarian corpse that floated unnervingly close to her cockpit.

She suppressed a startled scream as she saw this. The body was bloated in places, and had burst in others. The result of oxygen molecules within the body expanding after it had presumably been sucked out of a hull breach. A thin trail of blood and gore emerged from a large hole in the man's chest. It seemed to trace the corpse's journey from a nearby hull fragment of a Liberty battleship.

There was an unsurprising look of intense pain on the man's face. There was also something that may have been disbelief in his expression. Despite the fact that military officers knew that death could come for them without warning, it was still a surprise when it happened.

A limb struck the transparent alloy of the view screen. It looked briefly as if the body was desperately begging to be let in, out of the harshness of open space.

Valerie looked down at her flight controls and prepared to slowly back herself away from the corpse without damaging it. It then occurred to her that the corpse was probably trapped within her shield that would have been momentarily deactivated when she exited the jump hole.

Her attention suddenly found itself focused at her hull status, which was almost at half strength and continuing to diminish. She quickly dispatched a number of nanobots to deal with the damage and then remembered her companions.

"This is Lieutenant Commander Andriano." She said after hailing the other two ships, "Don't forget about your hull integrity.

* * *

Instinctively, Trent's eye moved to his hull status display, which was far lower then he would ever want it. Under normal circumstances he would have deployed nanobots every minute or so when flying through the system. With the dead fleet in front of him however, he had forgotten about this.

He quickly deployed several of the mechanical beasts and returned his gaze to his screen once he was satisfied that the task had been completed. Now that he had sufficiently recovered from his shock however, he realised that he really didn't want to stare at the debris.

"What do we do now?" He asked over the radio, his voice was quiet and deadpan.

"Scan for survivors," Juni said, her voice equally deadpan, "Maybe an escape pod got away or..."

She cut herself off and killed the transmission. Trent noticed her ship fly further into the debris and soon followed after her.

A few minutes past where the onboard computers on the three fighters attempted to distinguish between twisted pieces of metal and escape pods. The heavy radiation in the area made organic material next to impossible to detect.

"This looks like a Nomad weapon's signature." Andriano said absently, doubting that anyone was really listening.

"So now the Nomads are moving into the border worlds." Said Trent, proving Valerie wrong. Fear seemed to be seeping into his voice.

"I'm picking up something," Andriano said after a few seconds, "it looks like 4 Corsair wrecks, they're almost directly in line between us and the Omega 5 jump gate."

"They're heading for Bretonia!" Trent virtually shouted this.

On her contact list, Juni noticed that Freeport 5 and the Corsair base were both still intact.

"Freeport 5, this is LS," She cut herself off, the LSF probably weren't well liked here and she wouldn't get any information by proclaiming affiliation with unpopular factions, "This is Order colonel Jun'ko Zane, what happened here?"

"Colonel Zane this is Freeport 5." The face that appeared on the HUD of all three vessels looked understandably afraid. "It was like. It was; that wasn't like anything we'd ever seen. These ships just came out of nowhere. The house fleet was taken out before they knew what was happening. There were..."

"How many ships?" Juni said, trying to get the relevant information without wasting time.

"About half a dozen big ones. There were hundreds of small ones. They were heading towards the Omega 5 jump hole, but then they just vanished."

"Not enough for an invasion." Andriano said quickly afterwards.

_Big ones? _In spite of everything, Juni couldn't help but feel a light scorn for the unprofessional status report.

"How come you're still alive?" Trent asked, almost scornfully.

"Why shouldn't we be?"

"That bunch of vanishing ships belongs to a particularly nasty group of beings that are trying to eradicate humanity. You are hum..."

Trent cut himself off as an unpleasant possibility sprung to mind. His mind sprung back to the flight back to Chugoku after the attack on Tekagi's Arch where he had come fact to face with his first Nomad. In the back of his mind he could hear Hakkera whispering, _'They are a species with the ability to possess humans.'_

The face in his HUD looked confused and even more nervous. Trent was beginning to doubt his own theory at this sight, but he couldn't take the chance that he might be right.

"Trent?" Juni said, equally confused, "What's is it?"

"They might be Nomads." He replied, "The station might have been boarded and..." He cut himself off as he saw surprise on what he could see of Juni's face. This seemed to be something she hadn't even considered.

"What's a Nomad?" (Knowledge of Nomads was restricted to military personnel and the Order only.) The Zoner's voice was even more panicky now.

"Andriano." Juni said, her voice now calm and professional, "Head back through the jump hole and inform the Osiris as to what's going on, get them to call in at the station and see for themselves if the Nomads are here."

"Yes ma'am."

"Trent, you and I will try and get back to Cambridge. We need to warn Bretonia about the Nomads if that's where they're heading."

"Right. We should head through Omega 11, there's a jump hole we can get to Stuttgart, Omega 7 and then Omega 3 from there. From there it's easy to get to Cambridge, and we'll probably avoid the Nomads."

"Alright, you go first."

"Good luck." Andriano said before vanishing back through the jump hole, trailing the Navy officer's corpse with her. The body was growing ever more charred due to prolonged exposure to the shields.

* * *

The journey became somewhat easier once the debris field had been cleared. Juni felt glad to be out of the assorted wreckage.

In front of her, she could see Trent's ship, moving swiftly around the numerous asteroids of the planetary fragments field. Her attention then swiftly returned to a nearby asteroid that she had neglected to notice. Avoiding it was difficult and resulted in the gap between the two ships widening. Trent did not slow down for her. He had barely said anything since they set off for the jump hole

Juni wasn't surprised at this, she wasn't in any real danger by being further back, and Trent was preoccupied by the thought of a Nomad attack on Bretonia. Despite what Andriano had told him about the enemy force being too small for an all out invasion, she knew that she would be acting the same way if Kyushu was facing Nomad attack.

"Hostile contacts detected!" Trent said suddenly. Juni's eyes instantly shot to her contact list and she was somewhat surprised to see 4 Corsair Titan class heavy fighters. She had expected that they would be keeping their heads down considering the pasting they'd took, as well as the Nomad threat.

"Attention house fighters," There was open disdain in the Corsair's voice as she said the word 'house', "This is Commander Esmeralda Tourella of the Corsair Empire."

_Empire?_ Trent thought, resisting the urge to snigger.

"We mean you no harm, we have been sent to escort you through the Border worlds."

"You what?" Despite Juni's lack of experience with Corsairs, she knew that they weren't in the habit of providing escort services for military ships.

"You heard me. With the current situation involving the alien attacks, the Elders have decided that it is in our best interests to assist you and return things to normality. Do not mistake me, I would happily watch you die by my hand, but right now that's not an option."

Trent couldn't believe what he was hearing. If the Corsair's reputation hadn't been enough to make this kind of situation seem impossible, the pasting the Houses combined fleet had given them in Omega 5 would have been.

"How do we know we can trust you?" He asked.

"Because you're still alive." Came the simple response, "If we wanted you dead we would have destroyed you when we saw you."

"You would have tried." Trent responded.

"Trent!" Juni said harshly by way of warning. The angered freelancer soon fell silent.

"Fine, follow us to the Omega 11 jump hole."

The Corsair woman flinched, obviously she wasn't used to taking orders from LSF personnel. However, the six ships soon found themselves on their way to Omega 11. The Corsairs took up flanking positions.

"How did you know where to find us?" Juni asked, "And what we were planning to do?"

"It doesn't take too much intelligence to realise where the alien ships are going, or that you'd try to warn Bretonia. We've had patrols scouring this system looking for you."

"I see."

Soon enough, the jump hole came into view and the six ships deactivated their cruise engines, deciding to make the final approach at safer, slower speeds.

"Alright, Trent, you go first. Then..."

"Something's coming through." Stated a second Corsair pilot suddenly.

**To be continued.**

**Right, now for replies.**

**Bob Rijke: There you go, as requested I've had a pirate faction come to the aid. The Corsair's involvement is going to be more interesting then that don't worry. Thanks for reviewing.**

**Hahukum Konn: I will clean up my chapters, when I can be bothered, which alas may take a while, and I already mentioned the formatting problem problems. Anyway, I hope to see chapter 4 of Rheinland's redemption soon. Thanks for reviewing.**


	12. Unidentified

**Thanks once more to all reviewers; replies are where they normally are.**

**Chapter 12: Unidentified**

_We are here today to bid farewell to the valiant soldiers who fell to defend the peace and freedom of the Sirius sector, either fighting the Outcasts who poison us from within, or the Nomads who for reasons we cannot know for certain seek our extermination. The noble sacrifices of these men and..._

Von Claussen virtually hissed in anger, hit the delete key on the Portable data terminal in his hand and threw it onto the bed.

He hated writing eulogies; almost as much as he hated hearing them. Time and time again during the days of his military career before he broke away and fell in with the Bundschuh, he had heard about equally 'valiant' men and women giving their lives for the greater glory of Rheinland. Their deaths were political tools. Showing their fallen warriors in exaggerated splendour always helped to stir up the patriotic spirit that was built on lies and corruption, demonise the reformers, even to justify the disastrous war with the GMG.

Even now, when words such as 'brave' and 'noble' were well earned, Von Claussen still hated the thought of using them. In the end, he knew virtually nothing about the people he was talking about. He couldn't say anything about them, he could only use them as faceless PR tools to demonise the Nomads in the same way that he had seen so often and quickly learned to despise.

Von Claussen decided to turn his attention to other duties for the moment. Any funerals wouldn't be held until the Nomad threat was over, no one knew when that would be, or if it would even end with the destruction of the Nomad forces as opposed to humanity.

Von Claussen had a much greater reason to hate the Nomads then most people in Sirius. He had watched Rheinland change, as the Nomads possessed its leaders and generals. He had been witness to its sudden rise to a cold military dictatorship, the atrocities it had committed under Nomad rule, the Kishiro technician on New Berlin that he had watched be executed by two bloodthirsty, possessed Rheinland police officers being an example.

It had reminded him of his ancient history classes during his high school years, when he had listened with disgust at the tales of Germany falling under the control of racial, genocidal demons led by Adolph Hitler, who had twisted and perverted Germany, turning it into the right hand of Satan. The atrocities that had committed were on the same calibre as the ones Von Claussen had heard about when word had reached his hear from Klaus Botzler about the mass executions of peace craving journalists and protestors at Manheim.

As he watched this happening, he had been virtually powerless to do anything to stop it. All his actions, prior to the final operation with the Order, which had opened the hyper gate, seemed to do nothing to slow the Nomads' plans.

When he saw the hyper gate open, it felt as if the weight of at least fifty worlds had been lifted from his shoulders. With the flick of a switch it seemed, the Nomads had been swept away to whichever fiery plain of hell they had hopefully been sent to.

Their defeat had paved the way for the rebuilding of Rheinland to the Empire it had been for centuries after the colonisation of New Berlin, until the corporations had grown large, powerful and corrupt enough to poison it from within and finally push it into the eighty-year war.

Von Claussen smiled as he remembered landing on New Berlin, knowing without a shadow of a doubt tat victory was his. All of what he had done, betraying Rheinland, firing upon his countrymen and former colleagues in the military, all of it seemed to be vindicated in that one moment.

The day would have been perfect if he had not had too much to drink at the victory celebration and woke up the next morning lying naked in the middle of the capitol city's library. How he had gotten there he was still not sure. The night was a blur and everyone he had asked about it instantly broke into bouts of uncontrollable laughter and told him 'Don't overdo it next time'.

He shook the embarrassing thought aside and returned his attention to more disturbing ones. The Nomads had returned, against all the odds and all the reassurances from Dr. Quintane, Dr. Sinclair and their research team that the Nomads were stuck in the vortex forever, they had returned to finish what they started.

They weren't being nearly as subtle this time. The destruction of Freeport 9 and the Outcasts home world showed this. It seemed that they were unwilling to prompt humanity into blowing themselves up this time. They wanted to do that themselves.

Von Claussen wondered briefly whether this was an attempt at revenge. Were they so enraged from their first defeat? Was their thirst for vengeance so strong that they would risk their ships and crews in an all out assault when it wasn't necessarily necessary?

He didn't know, and he didn't especially care. With the return of the Nomads, the weight of those fifty worlds once more found itself resting on Von Claussen's shoulders. He didn't want to be writing eulogies now, he wanted to be out in space, settling old scores and making the enemy pay for every man, woman and child who had so much as sneezed because of them. Infuriatingly, it didn't look like that was going to happen any time soon.

"Captain Von Claussen, please report to the flight deck immediately. Repeat, Captain Von Claussen, please report to the flight deck immediately."

Then again...

* * *

"What the fuck is that?" The Corsair's voice was chocked with sudden surprise. Everyone else remained silent, unable to do anything but stare.

The ship that had emerged from the jump hole was not a Nomad vessel, nor was it a human one, at least not anything Trent, Juni or their Corsair escorts recognised. (Or anything that was typical of human ship design).

The vessel was roughly as large as a Bretonain gunboat. The similarities ended there however. The entire ship appeared to have been constructed out of stone. There were dents and growths in the diamond shaped hull that seemed consistent with the shape of a cliff face. There were also traces of bright purple in various sections of the hull. There was nothing that seemed to resemble a cockpit, gun or missile turrets or even an engine.

The Six pilots simply stared at the sight in awe for a few moments. In spite of the countless other unexplainable things that had happened over the last few days, the appearance of a random alien ship was still as surprising as it would have been if the Nomads hadn't showed up.

For what seemed like a long while, nothing happened apart from more staring and the occasional activation of nano bots to repair the hulls that were continually being gnawed at by the radiation in Omega 41.

Trent attempted to scan the vessel, disappointingly, but rather unsurprisingly, his ships sensors only provided the following information:

_Unable to scan target. Hull appears to be composed of a material that blocks conventional scans._

Soon it didn't matter.

One of the bright purple segments seemed to start glowing. The attention soon turned to this, and then to the bright purple stream of energy that emerged from the ship into the hull of one of the Corsair escorts.

The Titan class heavy fighter was obliterated in an instant. One moment, it was one of the most advanced fighters in the whole of the Sirius sector, the next, it was an expanding field of dissipating oxygen and tiny debris fragments that were no bigger then an adult fist.

The other pilots were soon awakened for their trance by the sight of this.

"All ships scat...!"

The Corsair wing leader died in the middle of her sentence. Her message was clear enough however.

The remaining ships all flew off in different directions, Trent's ship was barely able to avoid another discharge from the alien vessel. His ship shuddered and his shields vanished due to the close proximity to the near miss.

Fernandez Chavez, one of the two surviving Corsair escorts, swung his ship around and opened fire on the attacker. The top of the line Corsair weapons that his ship was outfitted with did no apparent damage to the alien ship. The hull remained undamaged judging by the look of it, (which was all that they could rely on), and the ship continued to fire.

Juni also turned her ship to face the attacker, she strafed randomly from left to right in an attempt to confuse whoever, or whatever was controlling the ship. As she did this, she also deployed two Sunslayer torpedoes, hoping that they'd be more effective.

Minute traces of the ship's hull appeared to be ripped off of the alien vessel with the torpedo detonation, but the overall damage done seemed to be minimal. The ship continued to fire at the human vessels, it's shots getting ever closer to them.

Chavez deployed several torpedoes of his own, as well as four cannonball missiles.

None of these reached the target.

A bright, semi-transparent orb appeared to encompass the alien ship. The weapons that collided with this seemed to vanish the moment they did so, as did Chavez's fighter, which was unable to pull away in time.

Sophia Ramirez's anger doubled as she saw the third Corsair fighter die. Her original sense of surprise and wonder and the random, beautiful alien vessel had been replaced by a single minded, ferocious desire to watch it explode.

That possibility was growing more and more unlikely however. Everything that they had thrown at it had done virtually no damage. If they continued to fight, they would all die here.

But she could not retreat. She could not in good conscience leave without trying until the final moment to avenge the deaths of her comrades.

She knew what she had to do.

"House fighters," she half shouted over the radio, "get through the jump hole, I'll stay here and try to hold them off. Go, now, warn the other houses about this fleet."

"You're coming with us." Juni responded, "You won't last two seconds against that thing, we'll get to Omega 11 and try to outrun it."

Ramirez wasn't listening. She had already blocked out anything that could distract her or cause her to fail in her task.

She flicked a switch on the torpedo control panel and all fifty Sunslayer torpedoes were activated at once. She only had a few seconds before they detonated.

Punching her afterburners, her ship charged at the enemy vessel. The ship continued to fire at her, but with no more zeal then it had been doing so, it's crew were either not worried about what she was planning or simply unaware. Ramirez was able to evade the enemy's gunshots, barely. The close proximity of one near miss tore off one of her wings, almost causing her ship to veer out of control, she was too close to the alien vessel however, and soon missing wings and stability of flight didn't matter.

The Corsair fighter smashed into the enemy ship. The collision caused all fifty torpedoes to detonate. The resulting explosion was huge, and too much for the alien ship to handle.

A huge chunk of hull blew away from the main body of the ship. What looked like oxygen, as well as two bodies flew from the interior. The ship itself, or what was left of it began to drift harmlessly.

"Trent," said Juni, her voice distorted somewhat by surprise. (The thought of a Corsair sacrificing herself to save their usual enemies was about as absurd a thought as that of a Nomad doing so.) "Tractor in those bodies, and anything else you can find, then form up and let's get the hell out of here.

"Will do."

**To be continued.**

**Right, now for replies.**

**Jummeth: Nice to see you've returned. This story is 'R' rated so you need to alter the rating option thing near the top right hand corner to see the chapter properly. Anyway, you'll be waiting a long time if you want to see monkey fighters. There is actually a mod you can get on that has these. Anyway, thanks for reviewing.**

**Bob rijke: Annoying as it was to get shoved first through jump holes into dangerous situations, it wouldn't have been much fun if you had to wait for everyone else to go through first. That's the annoying thing about jump gates; the bloody things take 4 hours to get through if there's a transport or something in the way. Oh well, thanks for reviewing.**

**Hahukum Konn: I'm still trying to pull myself out of laziness and fix the other chapters, no luck so far. Oh well, good luck HTMLising. I forgot the portfolio again so I won't be able to send over fan art for the website just yet. Thanks for reviewing.**

**By the way, Hahukum Konn has created a freelancer fan site for those that are interested, right now it doesn't contain much of anything, but that should change sooner or later. Keep an eye on www.freelancerfanfiction.ca**


	13. Certainty

**Thanks once again to all reviewers, and to Ted Hsu for Beta reading.**

**Chapter 13: Certainty**

Omega 11 was an inhospitable place at the best of times. Death could come in several forms to anyone unlucky enough to be in the system. The dead wrecks of ambitious diamond miners were strewn about the Von Roe asteroid belt. Other pilots had been melted along with their ships due to being too close to a solar flare, and there were also vast numbers of Red Hessians and Corsairs that were more than willing to torch passing ships.

Today, it was a ghost system.

The alien vessel that had attacked Trent, Juni and their Corsair escorts had apparently been busy in the system, pieces of dead metal were strewn all about the jump hole, presumably these were the wrecks of ships that had tried to escape the battle zone and were promptly blown up in the attempt.

Trent checked his contact list and felt a disturbingly familiar stab of pain as he noticed that Solarius station was no longer there. Neither was Freital, the Red Hessian's base in the system. He didn't care so much about this one, though. Before he knew what he was doing, Trent raised his gloved fists and slammed them into the flight controls before him. The result was the launching of a countermeasure flare. A momentary feeling of awkwardness emerged in him but was soon drowned out by rage.

Omega 11 was now the third system to have had all human-built hardware within it annihilated. The Nomads it seemed (there was little doubt in Trent's mind that it was them who had been flying the other ship), were simply going to waltz through Sirius and destroy every human base or planet that they came across. And if they had more then one of the Diamond-shaped dreadnoughts at their disposal, they would most probably succeed with casual ease.

'Leave nothing standing, let nothing live.'

Unbidden, Tobias' words replayed in Trent's head, and his mind cast itself back to a rainy day in Leeds back when he was 15. There wasn't a customer to be seen and since the rain on Leeds was more acid then water, going outside was not an option.

Consequently, Trent found himself listening to Tobias telling another of his war stories from his days in the Bretonian Armed forces. This one was about the role he played in the destruction of the BAF _Newcastle_, which had been hijacked by roughly sixty percent of the crew who had decided to mutiny and earn their retirement funds by handing the ship over to the highest bidder.

Early in his career, Tobias had apparently been part of the fighter detachment from the battleship _Nelson_, which, along with the destroyers _Tyne_ and _Formidable_, had been sent to bring down the battleship.

According to Tobias, the captain of the _Nelson_ had uttered the words 'Leave nothing standing, let nothing live' before the attack began, and that was exactly what they had done. Not a single mutineer survived the battle, and according to Tobias, it lasted only five minutes. Captain Haley Norton, the late commander of the _Newcastle_ and several loyal Bretonian officers had sabotaged the reactor when it became apparent that the mutineers would prevail, the result was a battleship which could barely move and which was also destroyed after only a few well placed hits in the engine.

Tobias then went on to describe the effect the battle had had on him, the fear and sorrow he felt afterwards. Not so much because he felt guilty for the traitors he'd killed, but because of the death he and the others had inflicted without really thinking about doing so. The seemingly effortless taking of human life, as well as his seemingly effortless conquest of morality had disturbed him deeply, the realisation that he had chosen a lifestyle that would involve him taking more and more lives out of the universe until the day he retired or was killed had almost kept him from flying again.

His view was changed however when he read a few news stories about Mollies butchering transport crews, Corsairs striking Bretonain convoys in Cambridge and seemingly endless stories of similar atrocities. It was this that had convinced Tobias that these people needed to be taken out of the universe, for the greater good of Bretonia, the house he had sworn service to.

He never had second thoughts about doing his job again.

This, Trent thought, was what set Tobias, himself, Juni and every warrior in Sirius apart from the Nomads. The Nomads were fighting not for stability, or peace, but because they perceived humans to be vermin, pitiful bags of walking flesh, unworthy of life and fit for nothing except destruction or possession.

The Nomads were evil, there was no denying it. Already they had attacked three systems, and destroyed one planet, three bases and more ships then Trent could remember, and that wasn't counting the losses the Order had suffered in the Dyson sphere. There seemed to be no end in sight except for one in which all of humanity would be exterminated. He wondered briefly if the Nomads uttered something similar to 'Leave nothing standing, let nothing live' before battle.

"Trent!" From the sound of Juni's voice over the radio, she had called his name several times already and was growing more and more frustrated with each attempt. This was the first time Trent's brain had registered it however.

"I'm sorry." He uttered hastily. "Yeah?"

"We don't have time to waste; we have to get to Bretonia before the Nomads do."

"Right." He said, more focused now that he had been reminded of his task, "There's a jump hole to Stuttgart in this system; from there we can get to Omega 7..."

"And from there to Omega 3 and Cambridge." Juni finished, "Alright, you lead the way."

* * *

It was roughly halfway through the jaunt through Omega 11 that Juni began to realise that it didn't really matter if they made it to Bretonia before the Nomads did. Even if they did beat them, (which was unlikely considering the number of systems they had to pass through and that the Nomads only had to pass through one), Bretonia wouldn't have nearly enough time to mobilise its forces and assemble a fleet in Cambridge, the Nomad fleet heading towards Trent's homeland would be stopped eventually, but the damage they could inflict upon Bretonia before that happened would be catastrophic.

There wasn't any other way however, if they tried to run through the Nomad fleet at Omega 5 then they would have been destroyed. At least this way they might be able to get a warning to Rheinland before the Nomads started coming in through their back doors. Assuming that they hadn't done already.

The safety of the colonies was just one of her concerns, however. Despite her attempt at reassurance, Trent seemed to grow more depressed with each passing hour. Already he was beginning to lose focus in the cockpit, a potentially fatal action at the best of times. If things didn't improve, or if he didn't kill a Nomad soon, he would most likely find himself roasted in his own cockpit. She could hardly blame him, in the space of two days he had been witness to more death then most people in the colonies could even imagine, and barely any of those fatalities had been Nomads. Now, with this new enemy ship that could torch ships with one shot, the houses' chances of victory seemed to have taken a nose dive.

* * *

Biped 453, a Nomad who wore a cloned human shell for use in battle looked from the former council chamber of planet Primus' native inhabitants at the construction sight below him.

Attempts to possess the indigenous creatures had failed, resulting in the deaths of both the host and the M'lar Varek (Nomad) that was to occupy them. As a result, the first plan was simply to eradicate the beasts and be done with it, the fifth hive's hierarchy however, tasked with the conquest of this region of space, had decided instead that they could be put to good use building the human warships for use in the war.

After that was done, their usefulness would come to an end, and death could take them.

Although he recognised the wisdom in this decision, he detested the thought of sharing the same air with such creatures. Just as he imagined the fallen soldiers had hated sharing air with the humans. Still,

for the good of the Empire, such things must be done. It should already have ended. If it wasn't for the meddlesome Order and Edison Trent, that inferior piece of meat that had continually slipped through their grasp and finally banished the M'lar Varek to the shadows, humanity would be extinct and this region of space would be under the control of its rightful owners, chosen by the distant masters to rule the Empire after they had shed their bodies and no longer needed it.

It had been so easy in the human's home system. That was before the masters had vanished however, all they needed to do was uncloak the Kidasfrey Lrath, (Hope Slayer), and destroy the system's star; with the pitiful prey species gawking at the ship all the while.

Why the masters chose not to trust them with their most powerful tools was a mystery. Surely they had proven their loyalty and faith in Dom Kovash values again and again with each race that they annihilated, and surely they had proven with each victory that they could be trusted with such hardware. Why then did the masters not give their children the means to win easily?

He looked again at the row of human machines and felt a reluctant stab of anger within him. None of this would have been necessary if the Dom Kovash were more willing to share more then a single gunboat with them.

It would have meant that they could strike swiftly in the first war instead of wasting time rotting their enemy from within.

_They have their reasons,_ 453 said to himself_. Just be thankful that they adapted the Hypergate for our use, otherwise we'd still be drifting aimlessly around the known territories._

So far, the war had gone according to plan. Three systems had already been cleansed of the human plague; and with their new shipyards in this system operational, and forty new battleships being constructed every day, victory seemed but a few terran weeks away.

Despite the vast increase in ship and soldier production, human ships were still necessary. The human's technology was greater then the M'lar Varek on several fronts, one of which being shield technology, a device which neither the masters nor their children had even considered before, or needed.

These ships would be used in place of the mainstream Nomad fighter during this campaign to reduce unnecessary friendly casualties. They could get close to enemy targets and unleash their weapons before the targets understood what had happened.

**This time, they would prevail.**

**To be continued.**


	14. Incentive

**A new chapter commeth, whoo! Anyway, thanks to Ted Hsu for beta reading again and to all reviewers both here and on TLR, replies are at the end of the chapter.**

**Chapter 14: Incentive**

Von Claussen stepped onto the flight deck and was surprised to find it free of technicians hurriedly buzzing around fighters, re-attaching severed wings and so forth.

Today all he found was a group of pilots in various house military uniforms, gathered around Orillion. After a moment he recognised a number of the faces and realised that he was looking at the survivors of the fighter squadron that the fleet had launched, minus Trent and Commander Zane of course.

"Von Claussen," Orillion uttered distantly, his voice seemed sadder somehow, maybe thing were worse then they seemed.

"As you may or may not know, I recently sent Colonel's Trent and Zane, and Lieutenant Commander Andriano," he gestured at one of the pilots, Von Claussen couldn't clearly see who, "On a patrol into Omega 41. What they found was the debris of your houses' combined attack fleet."

A deathly silence was the answer to this. There were no surprised gasps or utterances of disbelief. People simply stared at Orillion, deadpan, as they waited for the anger to appear.

After a few moments, one man uttered what appeared to be a snarl. A few faces turned to look at him, but most people were too wound up in their own pain and hatred.

Every one of them had had friends on the battleships that were now apparently nothing but floating hulks in the middle of some backwater system that almost no one had ever heard of. The ships had

been crewed by their friends and colleagues, trusted people who had pledged their lives to bring peace and stability to Sirius, who had been murdered by beings with no respect for such things; creatures who sought only genocide.

Von Claussen simply stared at Orillion feeling nothing but a sick numbness. Again. The Nomads had snatched the lives of friends and colleagues from him again! The part of his mind that would quote from years of training and experience that told him these things like this happened in war was silent. He didn't want logic, he didn't want rationality and he didn't want any form of relief from the pain he was feeling. He wanted Nomad blood, and he wanted it soon.

It took a measure of self-control to keep him from launching a fist at the person standing next to him, the remnants of his self control pulled him back however, and he settled for launching a fist at the wing of a 'Dagger' that lay next to him.

The result was what he'd expected, the fighter was undamaged and his fist hurt. Nevertheless, he clung to the pain, and let it fuel his hatred.

* * *

Orillion waited almost ten minutes before speaking again, these people needed time to deal with their pain, a lot more time than ten minutes, but time was a luxury that they could no longer afford. At least they'd have calmed down somewhat. 

"I'm sorry." He paused slightly as the crowd turned their attention back to him. Some people appeared to look upon him with hostility. It was all too easy in situations like this to blame the messenger.

It won't last, he told himself.

"Listen carefully all of you, the threat the Nomads now pose if far greater then that we faced during the first war. The Nomads are far stronger then before, and if our information is correct, they're

producing dozens of new capital ships and hundreds of new fighters on a daily basis."

An uneasy murmur passed through the collection of pilots. The hatred, though far from gone in any of them, had receded enough to allow a new emotion to take form: fear.

"Reports from Zoner convoys, Freelancers and Bounty Hunters indicate that the Nomads have already purged Omega 11, Omicron Theta and Omicron Alpha. We also have reports of incursions into Omicron Gamma and the Sigma systems, and we believe an enemy taskforce is on its way to Bretonian space. I have already contacted the Bretonain government and they assure me that they'll move a significant force to the Cambridge system." This news did little to ease the growing

anxiety in the Bretonian pilots.

"I do have some good news however."

For some, the shock of this last sentence was almost as great as that of hearing that the fleet had been destroyed.

"We have information from a Freelancer by the name of Kristin Skiba of the location and defences of what appears to be a Nomad shipyard in an uncharted system accessible through Omicron Gamma. From Skiba's flight recorder, we have been able to make out fourteen Orbital battleship construction areas, as well as what looks like a," Orillion paused, searching for the right word, "hatchery on one of the two planet surfaces," on another they appear to be constructing

human fighters, so far we've positively identified the construction of both Dragons and Crusader class fighters."

"How is THIS good news?" One of the pilots near the back asked, she virtually spat out the words.

"Because I believe we have a good chance of destroying it, and also that doing so will successfully halt the enemy's advance, and give us a fighting chance in this war."

Orillion paused again, letting the words sink in. The situation had already begun to look hopeless for one too many people; he had already had three suicides and one deserter among his own people. He

needed to convince them that all was not lost yet, and to help nurture this belief, humanity needed a victory. A big one, and soon.

"I want any volunteers who are willing to help destroy this shipyard to take one step..."

Every one of the assembled pilots took one step forward.

* * *

Satisfaction zinged through Trent as he watched the second Nomad fighter die, the enemy patrol had ambushed them near the jump hole, two gunboats and five fighters. They had presumably been left behind to deal with any pestiferous humans that entered the system and keep their presence secret from the rest of Sirius for as long as possible. 

The reason didn't matter so much to Trent however seeing as the Nomads were taking pot shots at both him and Juni.

So far, the Nomads attempt at an ambush had met with limited success, they had already lost four fighters, and one gunboat had been forced to cloak and retreat through the jump hole.

The Nomads had a fearful reputation amongst the house militaries, they were considered by many to be semi-mythical demons who were more then a match for any human at the best of times. The simple truth however was that Nomads were, with few exceptions, no better in the cockpit then any experienced human pilot. Their key to victory was to fly in swarms, using multiple fighters to attack one target; this was the reason for the heavy losses the Order had suffered during the first war, and also the reason for their reputation.

Trent and Juni, from experience, knew better. Their two ships were more then a match for the Nomad fighters, and there were not enough enemy ships to do enough damage to them.

A cannonball missile from Juni finished off the final Nomad fighter that was attempting to make it back to the Jump hole. Its destruction left only one gunboat in the area, which also appeared to be retreating.

Trent unleashed a Sunslayer torpedo at the enemy. During the first war, just one would have been enough to destroy a Nomad gunboat. Now it managed to reduce the enemy's hull integrity by roughly fifty percent.

The ship's turrets opened fire on Juni's tri-winged Defender as it flew closer to its weakened flank. Juni had little trouble evading its fire. The weapons on any gunboat, human or Nomad were designed for punching holes in large targets, but fighters could more often than not evade their fire.

She unleashed a stream of gunfire into the target, as well as two more Sunslayer torpedoes. After delivering her payload, she flew over the target and away, dropping a Ripper mine as she did so. It was this that finally caused the Nomad vessel's destruction.

Trent watched the series of blue explosions and felt another, stronger surge of elation. He had watched human installations and ships as nothing but debris for too long. The Nomads were owed some losses of their own, and even though these losses would hardly cripple their war effort, and that future battles would be nowhere near that easy, it felt good to score a victory.

There was no salvagable loot from the downed vessels, not that Trent especially cared, tractoring severed Nomad weapons or Nanobots always made him nervous, he always found himself worrying that he tractored a Nomad onboard with the loot.

"Feeling better?" Juni asked conversationally over the radio.

"Much," Trent replied with obvious satisfaction in his voice, "but we can't waste time, we have to get to Bretonia."

"Right, we're already in range of the jump hole, you go first, I'll bring up the rear, stay sharp we don't know what's..."

"Something's coming through!" Trent said suddenly, fresh tension emerging within him.

"Damn it!" Juni said, "Pull back, get at least two and a half kilometres away, I want to be able to run if we have to."

"Got it." Trent replied.

The two pulled away from the jump hole, but they weren't quick enough to stay out of weapons' range of the ship coming through.

Not that this really mattered considering that it was a Rheinland battleship with two gunboat escorts.

"Commander Zane, Mr. Trent, we've been looking for you." The thick Rheinland accent was so similar to the one Trent remembered in Cambridge from the battleship Wotan that he half expected to be fired

upon.

"We were told you might be heading this way." The voice continued, "Rheinland recently received word from the Order battleship regarding the new Nomad threat, this information has also been conveyed to all other houses and independent stations throughout

Sirius. We've been sent to collect you."

"Collect us?" Juni asked, "Why?"

"All house warships not dedicated to defence of our territories have been diverted to the Edge worlds, and your leader, Orillion I think it is, anyway, he requested that any ship that runs into you bring you back to the battleship Osiris."

Juni scanned all of the Rheinland vessels for Nomad life signs. It was possible that this was a ruse used by the enemy to lure unsuspecting human pilots to land, where they could be promptly possessed and used as spies or infiltrators.

When the scan result showed nothing but humans on all three vessels, she breathed a slight sigh of relief.

"Alright, Trent, you dock first, I'll follow you in."

**To be continued.**

**Right, now for replies:**

**Hahukum Konn: Save your eeks sir, things are looking up. Not that I won't bring in more problems or the protagonists but still, all is not lost. Thanks for reviewing and I'll look over your chapter tomorrow.**

**Jummeh: The Microsoft guys neither confirm nor deny a Freelancer 2, and I'm not bringing co-allition types into the story. Anyway, thanks for reviewing. Who's Dubya by the way?**


	15. Necessity

**Thanks to Athena on TLR for reviewing there, to Ted Hsu for beta reading and to David for his assorted comments.**

**Chapter 15: Necessity **

The Liberty sleeper ship stood before her, reaching higher then any of the other buildings. The colouration and design bore nothing overly different to any of the other buildings, but no one on the planet would fail to recognise it, or what it stood for.

_This former Alliance sleeper ship, now the Libertonian history museum was a testament, not only to the sovereignty and progress of the first of the four colonies, but of mankind's determination and ability to survive. This ship had crawled through the emptiness of space and delivered the living cargo to a safe habitable planet that then became the capitol planet of Liberty, the founding world of an Empire._

_Of course to the Nomads, it was just another target._

_A stream of bright purple energy weapons rained down from the skies and crashed into the ancient vessel. The forward section of the sleeper ship exploded instantly, sending debris hurtling in all directions. The larger pieces had noticeable trails of flames, making them seem like miniature meteorites. Each of these meteorites crashed without any apparent effort into undamaged buildings, punching through the walls and starting fires that seemed to grow to enormous sizes within only a matter of seconds._

_It was ironic; Valerie thought distantly, that the ship that had given life to Liberty was now assisting in its destruction._

_A loud, high-pitched whine sounded behind her, looking round, Valerie saw two of the few remaining Defenders, one with a fire trailing from its engines, one in two pieces, being run into the ground by a wing of Nomad ships. These ships then proceeded to fire a few token volleys at the surface, one of the capitol city's landing dock tavern to ribbons. A red-hot piece of metal that may once have been part of the wall missed Valerie's head by millimetres. Distantly, she felt the heat from it._

_Nomad battleships were descending through the orange stained clouds now. Through the deafening crashes and explosions, Valerie could hear someone scream in horror at these sights._

_These ships opened fire, but it no longer looked like there were any undamaged targets left. That didn't seem right, the attack hadn't even started that long ago._

_On the loading deck, Valerie noticed a number of charred corpses. Again, that didn't seem right, Nomad weapons would incinerate a human body, so would any ship's weapons for that matter, and ships were all the Nomads needed, they hadn't deployed any ground forces._

_She guessed that they were just there for effect._

_Should she jump?_

_Thinking about it, she realised that it was a better idea then waiting for a passing Nomad to finish her off, best to get it done quickly, at least this way, or what it was worth, those shimmery bastards wouldn't get her._

_When she tried to move however, she soon found that she couldn't._

_People were being torn apart all around her, their screams echoing in the air long after their bodies had stopped working. They weren't even being hit by Nomad weaponry, they were just dying._

_Everyone seemed to be in such a rush to die._

Valerie's eyes shot open. The last of the screams still echoed in her semi-conscious mind. The startling effect they had soon roused her enough to banish them however.

She could feel the beads of sweat on her forehead, and she swore under her breath when she realised what had happened.

She hadn't had a nightmare since she was a child, there never seemed to be any need. Nothing had scarred her enough to invade her sleep, up until only a few days ago, all she had to deal with were brainless Liberty Rogues, Moronic Xenos and rookie Outcasts, fucking target practice, but these new enemies. They were a far cry from the fools she had sent to the grave during he career.

They were demons, there was no other word to describe them, and it was still difficult to accept that they were real. Genocidal aliens were the creation of science fiction writers and game designers, they were not meant to be real.

But they were, and it was only the though of paying them back for Mathias' undeserved death that gave her the strength to fight them.

Fresh pain emerged within her as she remembered Mathias, she had been trying to block any thoughts of him from her mind, this only served to increase them however, for every thought she repressed, another appeared, as did the pain.

Tears formed behind her closed eyelids, she reached up with one hand to wipe hem away, only to find it blocked by Nathan Remington's arms, which were closed around her chest.

She had almost forgotten he was there.

What had happened after Oillion had dismissed them and told them to get some sleep was something that both of them had needed, and wanted, and for almost an hour after they were finished, Valerie found that she could forget about the Nomads, the threat facing the colonies, and even Mathias, and instead revel in the warmth and comfort that Nathan had provided. Maybe it was a mistake; maybe it was nothing more then a result of two people feeling vulnerable and would become nothing more then a one night stand, maybe it would become something more, she didn't know, and it didn't mater now, there was too much going on, and too many demons that were yet to pay for killing their friend.

Nathan awoke suddenly with a graceless snort; Valerie jumped at the sound of this, and then grinned unexpectedly.

Nathan, still half asleep, shuffled closer to her, his arms tightening slightly around her waist. Then the fact of the situation hit him. His eyes flew open and he hastily pulled himself away from her.

"Holy shit." The words were slow and confused, as thought Nathan was unsure whether he needed to say them or not.

Valerie turned around so that she was facing him, she was still not sure what she felt about Nathan, thins were still to confusing, but for now she wanted to make this brief happy break from the war seem as long as possible.

"Morning", she said lightly, placing a gentle hand on his face.

Nathan stared at her, trying to fight through the nervousness, awkwardness and confusion that were simultaneously surging through his head. He had agreed to Valerie's idea for the same reason as she had suggested it. Both of them needed time to get away from the horrors they were facing, they needed to forget. The question was would they be able to forget this? Would they want to? Would he want to?

Almost without thinking about it, Nathan returned his arms to their previous positions around Valerie's waist, and he pulled her closer towards him. There was still uncertainty in his eyes, but it was faint.

"Morning." He said wearily. He stared at her for a few more seconds, his lips twitching as if he was resisting the urge to apologise.

Valerie's smile, a smile that was only slightly forced, widened.

"Ah come on," she said, "it wasn't that bad."

"Bad?" The shock and weary outrage in Nathan's voice resulted in laughter from Valerie. Nathan enjoyed the sound whilst it lasted.

Silence lingered afterwards ass both of them tried to find something to say that would stave off the awkwardness that was steadily creeping past the careless relief.

In the end nothing came to either of them.

"I should probably lea…"

"No," Valerie's voice was far louder then she intended, and she wondered briefly how Nathan would interpret it. "Not yet, just," She paused, "just stay there."

With that she closed the remaining gap between them. With one hand she applied a small amount of pressure on Nathan's right shoulder, informing him that she wanted him to roll onto his back, he obliged.

Valerie rested her head on Nathan's chest and listened to his heartbeat. It was slow and steady. It was peaceful. It wasn't the rushing, adrenaline-pumping kind of heartbeat that she'd experienced too many times in the last few days. She needed to hear this now; she needed a reminder that there was more to the universe then destruction, war and Nomads.

Nathan's arms closed around her back once more, he held her as if she might vanish if he loosened his grip. The warmth he felt from her helped him too to remember everything about life that didn't involve hardship and loss.

Underneath it all however, was the nagging certainty that he would forget it all again, very soon.

* * *

The BAF _Churchill_, lead ship of the hastily prepared Bretonian battle group charged with removing any and all Nomad ships from the Cambridge system, was currently speeding towards the Omega 5 jump hole along with the battleships _Victory, Thames and Valour, _along with ten destroyers and roughly twenty gunboats.

Typically, these ships were tasked with nothing more then simple patrols and attacks on Corsair fighters. Now it seemed they would have to serve as the first line of defence against an alien invasion.

Captain Gary Alderman of the _Churchill_ had never truly believed in Nomads, he had heard all the stories, an interview with an Order pilot on the colony news service, he had even seen footage of Nomad battleships in Kusari space during the Rheinland/Kusari war. Nevertheless, it was an almost impossible fact to accept.

Not that that could make any difference now.

The fact of the matter was that the Nomads were on their way, and he had his orders. For all he knew, the beasts may already be in the Cambridge system. If that was the case then they would still be out of range of the anti-cloak sensor enhancements that had been built into the ship's sensor array.

Only this morning, the most pressing thing in Alderman's life was an email telling him that his twelve-year-old son had been caught smoking on school property. That had only been a few hours ago, but it felt like another lifetime.

The fear within Alderman surged briefly as he thought of his son, what would happen to him, to his family, and everyone in the system for that matter, if he failed?

Unbidden, an image of his hometown sprung into his mind. One moment it appeared as the quiet place that it always was, with high buildings giving awe inspiring views of endless green fields and orange skies.

The next moment, it was a fiery ruin.

He clenched his fists and cast the image from his mind. Thinking about such things was no help to anyone, least of all his family. He needed to stay focused now, if they failed now, the damage to Bretonia could be…

"Sir, hostile contacts detected." The calm professionalism of Lieutenant William Harper's voice cut through the silence of the bridge.

"How many?"

"At least six battleships sir. There are other ships, fighters I think but I can't make out numbers whilst they're cloaked, readings are too erratic."

"Understood, communications put me through to the fleet."

"Yes sir."

"All ships this is Captain Alderman. Battle stations, launch all fighters. Leave nothing standing, let nothing live."

**To be continued.**


	16. Fools rush in

Thanks to Jummeh for reviewing. 4th wall? The other way? Remind me to brush up on my metaphors.

Anyway, without further adieu, on to chapter 16.

Chapter 16: Fools rush in

Joint fleet operations were little short of a myth.

Mutual mistrust and competition was the only thing that could be truly described as common ground between the five houses. The driving force behind fleet expansion, technological developments, mining and the obtaining of resources had always been the desire to outperform the other colonies and achieve superiority within the Siriun community.

Admiral Walter Evans was a patriot, he had always been. From his first day at the academy to taking up command of the (then) Liberty flagship LNS Wyoming, to his appointment as commandant of West Point military academy, to his new post onboard the Osiris class LNS Destitution. Throughout his career, all he had known was fighting for Liberty, strengthening and protecting his homeland. The thought of a unified house fleet was unheard of to him, and now he would see the second example of this in the space of a week.

A blowtorch cracked in the distance, bright blue light illuminated the darkened command centre momentarily before it died out.

The Destitution had been pressed into service earlier then intended. There had seemed to be no real need to get it finished quickly, the Nomads were believed to be a distant memory, Kusari seemed unwilling to send ships outside of their borders after the bloody nose that Rheinland had given them, Rheinland's military was still too small to be any serious threat, (not that any trouble was expected from them), and Bretonia maintained its standard 'Lovers of peace' persona.

In short, there seemed to be no great need to build up the military. Until now.

A low-pitched whir preceded a slight flickering of the command deck's lighting. After two seconds of this the lights sprung to life, plunging the command deck into initially uncomfortable brightness.

In the corner of his left eye, Evans noticed the two technicians that had been working on the lighting for the last half-hour hurriedly pack their equipment into the needlessly capacious toolbox's they'd brought with them and head for the lift.

The houses' warships had been ordered to assemble in the New Tokyo system, from there they would head straight for the Edge worlds and do battle with the Nomads wherever they found them. Specific targets

included whatever could be found in the two uncharted systems near Omicron Gamma and Omicron Alpha. The Order had already identified a shipyard in one system according to information sent by Admiral Timmons, and were already planning a strike, if that proved unsuccessful…

Admiral Evans allowed himself a small smile as he pictured the expressions on the Nomads' faces, assuming they had them, (Evans had never seen a Nomad before, nor any of the imagery from Prison Station

Mitchell's surveillance devices), as the colonies attack fleet descended upon them.

Of course in this fantasy, the enemy was woefully undermanned, outnumbered and outgunned. It wouldn't be like that.

"Approaching the Shikoku gate now sir."

"Very good, helm, initiate docking sequence."

"Yes sir."

Biped 453 watched as his fellow pilots nonchalantly inserted themselves into the flight suits they had taken from the raid on Malta.

Yet another human frailty, the necessity to wear protective garments for the purposes of space travel. Protection against shipboard environmental failure? Or inadvertent urination perhaps?

He grinned at the image and shook it off.

Technically, he shouldn't have had to fly for another few weeks. The M'lar Varek originally intended to establish bases within the cleansed border and edge worlds, from there they would assemble an armada for the final push into the inner systems, where they should have met the strongest resistance from the humans.

What had instead happened was that the infamous Edison Trent and a gang of his fellow flesh sacs had interfered once again. Their armed investigation of the purged Omicron system as they knew it, came faster then expected. The M'lar Varek had been careful to leave no survivors and to conceal their presence until then, but then the humans escaped the ambush set for them and word of the M'lar Varek's return spread throughout the Sirius sector.

Irritating though this was, it may prove advantageous.

The infiltrator onboard the Osiris had informed them of the recent wave of setbacks, the planned strike on the Primus shipyards, the destruction of the 'Nbrath' squadron in the Omega 11 system, the destruction of the master's gunboat in Omega 5.

453 made no attempt to hide his hiss of outrage; he had heard a few already. How? How was it possible that a humble prey species had been able to cripple a ship of the Dom Kovash? It was impossible.

_And it also explains why they won't give us more of their war material._

He hissed again as the realisation set in. They were unworthy. For all their victories they had not fought fiercely enough. They had failed to preserve a gift of the masters, and they had not driven the hopelessness of the situation into the putrid core of humanity. Their prey still lashed back, and this caught the fifth hive warriors off guard, it was not like with the other races, who typically either died with the first strike or begged for mercy after a handful of deaths, if a suitable example was not made, or if the enemy was not sufficiently weakened, the humans would continue to fight, possibly until they removed the M'lar Varek from this sector of…

_Impossible!_

He repeated that word to himself several times over.

The good news, if nothing else, was that the humans had hastily thrown every battleship that they could spare straight at the Edge worlds. With only limited information on this area, and even less on M'lar Varek fleet positions, a suitable and crippling ambush shouldn't be too much of a problem. It may even be the example they needed to snatch the fire from their enemies. Or, failing that, they could at least deal a crippling blow to the enemy, with nothing but a

handful of warships for defence of their home territories, their defeat would be swift and simple.

The numbers spoke for themselves; the M'lar Varek's ships outnumbered the human's three to one already, and with new warships being grown daily, victory was just a question of time.

For now he'd have to content himself with the fighters heading for the shipyard.

The Bretonian task force didn't wait for the Nomads to de-cloak before opening fire.

The enormous energy requirements of a cloaking device prevented the Nomads from returning fire immediately; it also drew power from the structural integrity fields that allowed their ships' organic hulls to withstand the stresses imposed on it by exposure to open space.

They had not counted on humanity being able to reverse engineer the anti-cloak radars that they had left in the capitol systems of each house and design smaller versions that could be inserted into ships. They had assumed that the Bretonian fleet would sail straight past them and perch near the jump hole. Leaving them free to proceed to Cambridge and the nearby mining station unhindered.

The result of this overconfidence was a series of defenseless, weakened targets for the Bretonian ships, at least for a while. The distortions caused by weapons fire on the cloaked Nomad vessels lit up the space next to the Bretonain fleet.

Many Nomad fighters were ripped apart almost instantly as gunfire and missiles impacted on their hulls, bright purple explosions seemed to break out everywhere, several larger explosions informed the house vessels of hull ruptures on enemy capitol ships.

Finally, the Nomad ships that were still capable of doing so decloaked. There was not one battleship or gunboat that had not suffered battle damage, dozens of fighters remained undamaged, dozens more however were too badly damaged to do anything but limp.

The Bretonian ships wasted no time, wings of torpedo carrying Crusaders immediately descended upon the closest battleships. Nomad fighters returned fire, sporadically at first, but the fire rapidly became more concentrated and professional.

What followed was a pounding match, each side firing at any targets of opportunity. Many simply fired blindly in the general direction of the enemy fleet as the multitude of weapons fire made for atrocious

visibility.

Bretonian ships began to break apart now; Cavaliers and Crusaders that collided with Nomad lasers were ripped apart instantly, the pilots had no chance to run to an escape pod.

The BAF Formidable, (originally named the BAF Nomad before the first alien attack), was the first gunboat to die. Continued fire from too many Nomad fighters wore away the hull, there were more ships then the turrets could cover, in less then a minute, the concentrated Nomad attack had destroyed the ship, the Nomad fighters then moved on to a destroyer, the BAF Gwynedd.

Three surviving Bretonain Crusader bombers from an original wing of ten unloaded as many Sunslayer torpedoes into a hull breach on a Nomad battleship as they could. It was fortunate that the Sunslayer had survived protests from numerous activists and protestors four years ago, all of whom cited that the weapon was 'too destructive' and 'too inhumane' to be used in combat. It destroyed the enemy too quickly and was unsuitable for warning shots.

If they had had their way, Starkiller torpedoes would have had to be used, and they had proved next to useless against the earlier generation of Nomad vessels.

The Sunslayers however, performed their duty admirably. A huge explosion shot out from the hull breach, and caused several new ones within the vessel.

The entire Nomad ship seemed to flicker. The illumination from the vessel brightening and dimming sporadically, it was no longer firing and seemed to be incapable of movement. Grey gaseous oxygen leaked from every breach.

"Instruct our fighters to concentrate their fire on the alien fighters!" Captain Alderman shouted at his com officer as another volley of Nomad lasers rocked his ship.

"Yes sir!"

"ETA on the Norfolk?"

"Thirty minutes sir." Came the response from lieutenant Jennifer Mathews, "Their reactor is still powering up."

Alderman cursed under his breath. In thirty minutes this would all be over, one way or the other. The Norfolk was supposed to be Bretonia's first line of defence in the Cambridge system, and its reactor had been powered down for so long that it couldn't even move.

Despite the earlier losses, the Nomads seemed to be gaining the upper hand in the battle with the Bretonian fighters, they out numbered, out gunned and out classed them, their strong hulls needed a lot of pounding from the older Bretonian ships to give way.

Newer Bretonian fighters however, had a slightly easier job.

The 'Minions of fire' a squadron of elite test pilots, led by Major Elizabeth Waldgrave, were flying the five prototype 'Lion-Heart' class Bretonian heavy fighters. Every house had been working on producing a new heavy fighter ever since Liberty started mass producing their advanced, tri-winged Defenders, and upgrading their conventional ones.

The new fighters had originally been intended to be used on the attack on the Outcasts home worlds, Queen Carina's military advisor however had managed to convince her to keep the new technology within Bretonian space however, unless something went wrong and they needed to make a show of force against pirate factions within their own borders.

The fruit of Bretonia's labour was the Lion heart, visibly, it resembled a flying crossbow. It was also more then a match for the Corsair's 'Titan' class VHF. Bretonia had only had dealings with these a handful of times, but the results had always been swift and

disastrous.

These new ships were faring much better in the storm of gunfire. Their shields could stand up to the pounding of random weapons fire far better then the older ships, and their ten gun mounts could reduce Nomad hull integrity much faster.

Fire from the 'Minion's' had already taken out roughly twenty enemy fighters, five of which were unnervingly close to finishing of the BAF Versailles (another destroyer). Now, the Nomads were starting to take note of them.

"Brian, you're getting a lot of hostiles on your tail, watch yourself." Shouted Lieutenant Rachel Sears.

"Watch myself?" There was amused, insincere outrage in the man's voice.

Moments afterwards, Brian Weller spun his ship around and let loose a continuous stream of gunfire and missiles in the direction of the Nomad ships assembling behind him. Two cannonball missiles effortlessly dealt with one, gunfire took out a second. The remaining four scattered.

"Crazy bastard." Sears repeated before launching a missile of her own into a Nomad fighter that had failed to notice her appearing behind her.

"Keep it up!" Waldgrave shouted, "keep them away from our capital ships, we can't lose here."

As she spoke, a bright flash from her right informed her of the destruction of a Bretonian battleship. Sick horror gripped her by the throat, she fought to tear herself away from it and continue fighting. Seconds after she had accomplished this however, a second

flash to her right informed her of another Bretonian battleship exploding.

To be continued.


	17. Void

**Sorry for the huge space of time between updates, I've had exams here, hated, ghastly, filthy things. They're finished now however, so updates should be more frequent from now on. Thanks to Ted Hsu and David Cross for Beta Reading.**

**By the way Ted, when your email came through something had gone wrong with the text and it all came back in binary. I would have asked you to send it again but David had already sent his one. Just easier.**

**Enough of this, thanks to all reviewers, replies are in the normal place. Or at least they will be when I upload this chapter.**

**Chapter 15: Void**

It was beautiful.

That was Valerie Andriano's first and only thought as she gazed through her view-screen at the majestic cylindrical tube of gas that surrounded them. It seemed to go on forever. If it wasn't for the Nomad presence in the area, and the fact that the only known jump hole to this region of space was in Corsair territory, then Orbital Spa and Cruise would have undoubtedly descended upon the region with a luxury liner or two, as well as swarms of people with too much money.

The Corsairs appeared to be honouring the cease-fire; the Order fleet, consisting heavily of house military fighters, had not been attacked on their way through Omicron Gamma. Nevertheless, the Corsairs had still insisted on providing an 'escort' through the system. It was unfortunate that they were unwilling to lend any ships for the attack on the Nomad shipyard.

This system had always been something of an urban legend within the houses. Freelancers and bounty hunters from all over Sirius would frequently tell stories of a mystical system near Omicron Gamma which contained strange alien species and was surrounded by swirling green clouds. Until recently, Valerie had always thought of this as a way of taunting those who had little hope of ever leaving their home system.

Her contact list revealed a number of objects in the distance, all of which were listed as 'Unknown Object'. These presumably were the shipyards. There was no sign of any Nomad ships, they were undoubtedly lurking somewhere, they wouldn't leave such an important installation to get shattered.

"All ships," The voice of Herr Von Claussen, the squadron commander for the mission, sounded over the radio, "Let's move in. Bombers, no matter what happens, throw everything you have at the Nomad's shipyards. We need to secure this area if the Osiris is to make it in system. Once that's done, we can re-arm, refuel and head down to the planetary targets."

A murmur of nervous agreement was Von Claussen's response.

"I know you're nervous, I am too; anyone who isn't is a fool. Remember though, this is the moment we've been waiting for, an opportunity to hit the Nomads where it hurts. Each of us owes them for at least one fallen comrade. Let's get to it."

Valerie noticed a cold, resentful look in his eyes. He wanted revenge, badly, it wasn't surprising really, the Nomads had shot his entire battle group to pieces, and God only knew how many more people he had lost to them during the first war.

She banished this unnecessary thought from her mind. The time had come, at long last, to pay them back for what they had done to Mathias. Even if she couldn't get the second fighter that had destroyed his ship, she and her comrades would kill enough Nomads today to make sure they paid properly for all who had died. This picturesque system would soon be stained with blue organic debris.

Valerie activated her cruise engines and followed the other ships towards the targets.

* * *

"They're here."

Biped 453 listened with growing bloodlust as Biped 400; commander of the fourth wave of human assault units announced the arrival of the prey.

There were one hundred M'lar Varek ships in total, all of which were flying fighters of human origin, Valkyries, Crusaders, Dragons, Titans and Sabres. Though he was loathed to admit it, Human fighter technology was far more sophisticated then their own.

There were 35 human vessels in total, not nearly enough to cause any significant damage to their operations. These pests would be dealt with, as soon as 400 gave the order to attack.

As if sensing his thoughts, Biped 400's face appeared on 453's Valkyrie's view screen.

"All ships, our den has been breached, remember your instructions, first wave follow me in. Second wave, cloak yourselves and wait for my signal, understood?"

A high-pitched screech was his answer, the Nomad equivalent of 'yes sir'. It was difficult to utter M'lar Varek words with human vocal chords; more often then not they found themselves with no choice but to use distasteful human words. Some words were achievable however, and these were used whenever possible.

Detaching himself from the rest of the group to join the twenty other Nomad vessels advancing on the human strike force, a grin found itself onto 453's face.

This would be a joyous kill, and a long overdue one.

* * *

"Hostile contacts detected." This announcement came from a pilot of Kusari origin who was flying one of the Order's modified Daggers. Valerie didn't recognise him.

"How many?" Von Claussen asked, still too far out of range to see for himself.

"It looks like 20 vessels Captain, all are human fighters."

"Understood, all fighters, break formation and engage, protect the bombers at all costs, we can't afford to lose one."

The Order's fighters broke away from the loose formation they had assembled in after exiting the jump hole. Each ship then rushed at the closest target of opportunity.

Visibility immediately diminished as space was illuminated once again by weapon fire. Valerie, who had picked out a Crusader class heavy fighter for a target, tried her best to eliminate the enemy quickly, she didn't want to risk sticking around the target and leaving her engines exposed for an enemy target.

The shields of the fighter dropped reasonably quickly, however, the Nomad version of the Crusader did not share the Bretonain model's lack of manoeuvrability. Valerie found it difficult to land successful shots on the enemy's hull.

The Firestalker missile that she launched had less trouble however. The red trail showed the missile's path through space and into the Crusader's right engine.

The ship exploded shortly after the missile impact.

As Valerie searched for another target, an unbidden image of Nathan Remington's smiling face sprung into her mind. She almost screamed at herself, she couldn't think of him now.

A second mental image, this time of his ship attempting to evade enemy fire sprung into her mind.

_No! Come on Valerie, focus, you can't help him by daydreaming. Come on, find a Nomad, and kill it. Now!_

She shook the images away and found a second target in the form of a Nomad Valkyrie. The ship was firing at a Kusari Dragon class fighter. Valerie closed behind the enemy ship, and instantly began taking fire from the rear turret.

"Shit."

She swerved her fighter to the right and attempted to evade the Valkyrie's fire whilst at the same time returning fire. Very few shots impacted on the enemy's shields. Valerie's evasive manoeuvres impeded her firing accuracy.

An image appeared in the top left corner of her HUD. It was a human pilot, screaming as flames consumed her body. The image soon vanished, and shortly afterwards, Valerie noticed a dissipating explosion and an expanding cloud of debris that told her that the Dragon the Valkyrie had been shooting at had been destroyed.

* * *

Biped 453 grinned as he noticed the Kusari fighter in front of him die. Now he could finally turn his attention to the pestiferous human in the Defender behind him.

He halted his ship abruptly, hoping that the pilot would sail gracefully past him, presenting the stern of their craft for his targeting computer to deal with.

That wasn't what happened however. The Defender stopped almost at the same time a he did. An instant later, a stream of cannon fire streaked in his direction, reducing his shield strength considerably.

"Impressive." 453 conceded.

He turned his ship around so that it was pointing directly at the Defender; he then punched his afterburners and charged at the human fighter.

* * *

Valerie barely managed to pull her ship out of the way of the enemy fighter that had decided to try and ram her. She wasted no time in swinging her ship around however, and firing a second wave of gunfire into the enemy target.

A fierce jolt sent her ship strafing to the right. Her shields were reduced to roughly half strength. A second jolt sent took them out completely, her ship started spinning. One of Valerie's engines had taken minor damage, resulting in a slight loss of manoeuvrability. This made pulling herself out of the spin somewhat easier.

453 smiled as he watched his target drifting helplessly in space. He had them. Whoever was in that ship was about to die. He accessed his firing controls and pointed the targeting crosshair over the red cross indicating where he should fire.

Unfortunately for him however, his trigger finger was not as quick as Nathan's.

Cannon shots from Nathan's Anubis class fighter crashed into 453's already weakened shields. The second they went down, his ship began to shudder with weapon impacts on his hull.

He was able to launch some shots at the Defender, but Nathan's intervention had resulted in him losing sight of his targeting crosshair, none of the shots were even close to his target.

The second human fighter sailed past his HUD and then veered to the right. Hastily finding the shield battery controls, he activated an uncomfortably larger number of them then he would have liked and soon found his shield strength returned to full. He then deployed several nanobots to repair his hull damage.

"It'll take more than that, arsehole!" 453 didn't know which ship this screeched taunt had come from but he guessed it was the one that had denied him his kill.

_Enjoy your joy whilst you can. It won't last much longer._

"First wave," Biped 400's voice sounded only on the Nomad radios, unlike the human ships, the M'lar Varek had been able to shield their transmissions from the enemy during combat. "Fall back to the shipyards. It's time to finish these fools."

* * *

"They're retreating!" Squeaked a Rheinland pilot in delight.

"They're heading back towards the shipyards sir." Said a Bretonian pilot with slightly more composure.

"Your orders sir?"

Von Claussen stared at the growing distance between them and the 15 remaining fighters. He would have expected them to fight until the death, even when facing hopeless odds, he had noticed in all his previous engagements that the Nomads had fought to the last; they never ran from a fight.

And where were their other ships? Anyone in their right mind would have had more then 20 fighters guarding this place; there would be battleships and gunboats as well. The plan had been to use the element of surprise to attack the Nomads and smash their defence force to splinters. But all they had found was a force far too weak to hope to defend the shipyard.

Unless…

"All ships, it's a trap. They knew we were coming! They'll have cloaked ships waiting by the shipyards. Everyone pull back to Omicron Gamma."

Despite disbelief and disappointment in more then a few of the pilots, they all followed their orders and pulled back towards the jump hole, just in time to see two Nomad battleships de-cloak on either side of it, blocking their exit from the system.

"Oh Shit." Valerie said before noticing dozens, possibly hundreds of enemy fighters de-cloaking behind them.

They were everywhere, Organic Nomad fighters were de-cloaking left, right and centre, as were enemy gunboats and at least ten more battleships. There were enough ships here to do some serious damage to the entire Liberty fleet. Their 32 remaining fighters didn't stand a chance.

For a few moments, nothing happened, the Nomads simply sat there, letting the humans drink in their defeat. Valerie pointed her ship at the nearest battleship and prepared to unleash whatever she could at it before she was blown to pieces from fifty different angles.

It was then that she noticed a new set of contacts. These were marked as neutral, and were defiantly not Nomad vessels; they were not human either.

**To be continued**

**Right, now for replies:**

**Jummeh: Having ended two successive chapters in the middle of battles I hope that you don't experience any major chest pains or twitching or anything like that. I think I'll leave political satire for the Claws thing. Thanks for reviewing.**

**Hahukum Konn: Yep, four houses. I would say more but nothing comes to mind. Thanks for reviewing and update soon. Oh and by the way, did you get the other 10 pages finished?**

**Daredevil2000: Aha! You've returned, I was wondering where you'd got to. Oh well, glad to see you back, thanks for reviewing. Not sure sequel wise, I'll see how it goes.**

**Psychopath.02: Yeah, I usually use the line but the formatting tool was being an arse when I uploaded the last chapter. Oh well, there's plenty of mods with ships which have more gun then hull, and I may have already said this in a review of your fic, I can't remember. Oh well, thanks for reviewing.**

**I think that's everyone.**


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